


Before I Sleep

by aMUSEment345



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drama, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:54:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 116,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21764080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aMUSEment345/pseuds/aMUSEment345
Summary: Purpose: the reason for which something is created. In the shadow of tremendous loss, Reid tries to find the purpose to his life….with a little help (?) from his friends.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**_A.N. This story was built around two scenes that demanded I write them….and one of them may not even make it into the story. I'll let you guess which is the one that will definitely appear. It's a few chapters in. The story takes place when it was originally written, in season 10._ **

**_At the time this was written, in both my life's vocation, and my avocations, the question of "Why are you here?" kept coming up. This story is Reid's response to the same question._ **

* * *

_The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,_ _But I have promises to keep,_  
_And miles to go before I sleep,_ _And miles to go before I sleep._

_Robert Frost, from Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening_

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 1**

There was something about it that always felt like coming home…..to a stranger's house.

To JJ, there was always a sense of 'not-quite-deja-vu' whenever she and Reid worked together these days. The familiar comfort with each other now came with an unfamiliar reserve. So many things had changed. _They_ had changed. And so had their friendship.

_I guess it was inevitable. It's been ten years, after all. We're not kids any more. I have a family. He has…..or, he had…..._

JJ always got stuck there. He still seemed so affected by what he'd had, and had no longer. She recognized the residual grief, even if she didn't completely understand it.

Reid's keeping his relationship with Maeve a secret from the team….except for Blake…..had resulted in a strange phenomenon. For each of the others, it seemed as though Maeve had risen from the dust and, in a matter of mere hours, been relegated back. Most of them had only heard of her for the first time on the day she died. They had trouble fathoming that Reid could actually have such strong feelings of loss for someone it seemed like he'd barely known, forgetting that it was only _they_ who had barely known her. They'd managed sympathy, reacting more to his despondence than anything else. But they'd also been impatient for it to end.

That had been almost a year and a half ago. Looking back at it from the perspective of the present, JJ couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed.

_Why is it that I can put myself into the mindset of an unsub, but I can't do the same for my best friend? Former best friend, I guess. Isn't Will supposed to be my best friend now?_

_That_ was a topic best left unvisited. She was relieved when Reid's observation interrupted her reverie.

"It looks like she might have been a runner. She's got the same kind of shoes you wear when you run."

She should have been used to it by now. After all, Reid noticed _everything_. But she was still a bit tickled whenever she realized that 'everything' included her. JJ moved over to where Reid was inspecting the victim's closet.

"Let's see how broken in they are."

Reid flipped the shoes so she could see the soles. Both outer edges were showing signs of wear.

He made an observation. "She had a pretty even stride, I'd say. Not like yours."

That got the blonde profiler's brows up. "Not like mine? You know how I wear out my shoes?"

He shrugged. "You lead with your left foot, so it bears more pressure than the right. That's why you wear out your left shoe faster than the right."

"I lead….I wear….." JJ just shook her head, still amazed, after so many years, at what Reid could cram into his brain.

Reid had already gone back to his perusal of the closet. "She's got….37 pairs of shoes." Proud, now, that he knew that wasn't an excessive number, for a woman. "Wait….one is missing."

He'd only been looking for a few seconds. "How did you…." _Why do you ask, JJ? Just go with it._ "What's missing?"

"There's a green shoe….see, like this one here." He held up the unmatched mate.

"Maybe she just kicked it under the bed, or the sofa or something." Beginning the search.

Reid disagreed. "Everything else was paired. Why wouldn't she pair this one?"

"Maybe she was in a hurry that day, or tired, or annoyed….." Relating to every one of the possibilities.

"Annoyed? Why would you not put your shoe away just because you were annoyed?"

 _Maybe because you threw it at something. Or someone_. Aloud, she responded, "I guess you wouldn't. So, what does that tell us?"

"Could be a trophy. Maybe part of the unsub's signature."

With that, he headed off down the hallway to the kitchen. After taking one last look around the bedroom, JJ went to follow him….and then stopped short.

_He's right. I do lead with my left foot!_

* * *

The full team was crowded into a conference room of the Macon City Hall, which housed the very small police department of the Georgia city.

"I can probably get you some space over at GBI, if you want to spread out more," offered Chief Harris. "It's only about 30 minutes away, over in Perry."

Hotch declined on behalf of the team. The Georgia Bureau of Investigation would provide support to their work, but thirty minutes was too far outside the radius of the crimes to be helpful to the team.

"Thanks, but this is fine. We appreciate being closer to the task force."

'Task force' was a generous term, considering the state of things. The police force consisted of fewer than twenty officers, including the brass, covering all three shifts. The sheriff's office had contributed a few bodies, as had the GBI. But it was still one of the smallest outpourings of support the members of the BAU could remember.

 _At least_ , thought Morgan, _they're on our side. We hope_.

That hadn't been the case in Texas, where the local sheriff had gone rogue, and taken most of his force with him. They'd almost lost Reid on that case, when the renegade sheriff had planted a bullet into the young profiler's neck. It had rattled all of them. They'd even seen the resignation of Alex Blake as a result of it. Curiously, the person who'd seemed least rattled had been Reid. Morgan remembered JJ's response when he'd remarked on it.

"Maybe that's because he was out of it, you know? I mean, isn't the stress of trauma mostly from the anxiety over it? Spence didn't have time to be anxious. He just tried to help Blake, and he went down. It was the rest of us who witnessed it, and the rest of us who were scared to death for him."

"Maybe. I guess that explains Blake. But all of us were in that situation together. We knew we were on our own, that we couldn't trust anyone from Texas. I mean, other cases, we might get some pushback from the LEOs now and then, but they've never been out to kill us before."

JJ shivered at the memory. "I know. I was afraid to look over my shoulder, and afraid _not_ to."

"Well, Pretty Boy went through that part of it, just like the rest of us. So why is he the only one who's not on edge?"

JJ took her time responding. She'd noticed it too. But, rather than be reassured by Reid's stability, she'd been troubled. She suspected that she knew why he'd come through the entire case and shooting incident emotionally unscathed, and it frightened her. So much so that she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud.

For Morgan's sake, she shrugged. "Don't know."

JJ emerged from her memory of that same conversation as the team gathered tightly around the table. They all smiled at their predicament as they watched the very slim Reid squeeze past Rossi to reach a white board attached to the far wall.

_He really never did seem fazed by it. But there's something now. It's subtle, but it's there. I wonder if the others can see it._

Once again she rued the distance between them. With Blake gone, and until a replacement could be found, JJ and Reid were spending more time together, both at whatever served as their headquarters, and in the field. And, while it vaguely reminded JJ of the many times they'd worked side-by-side when she was the team liaison….it simply wasn't the same. With the passage of time, the maturing of both the individuals and the relationship, the changes in their life circumstances, the traumas visited upon each of them, and the space created by the 'necessary deceptions' as JJ thought of them, their relationship had changed.

_As all relationships do, right? Except most of them grow more solid. But not mine. Not with Spence, and not…_

Before she had a chance to chastise herself once again about being a failure in her relationships, JJ heard Rossi prompt Reid.

"So, I take it those are the dump sites you've got plotted in black? And the presumed kill sites in red?"

"Correct. But we've only got the one definite kill site, so I've smudged the other one. We'll hear back from GBI soon about whether the blood at the scene matched any of the victims'."

"What are the blue dots?" asked Morgan.

"Workplaces. And the green are their homes. Except for the one we haven't yet identified, of course."

Hotch always found it helpful to review and summarize the case along the way. "All right. So we've got five female victims, each in their late twenties to early thirties, each lean and fit, but no other obvious similarities in appearance," he began.

Morgan took it from there. "Each was found, stabbed and almost fully exsanguinated, in a thickly wooded area."

Rossi made the next, important, point. "But there was very little blood at any of sites, suggesting that they were killed elsewhere, and the bodies dumped."

"And the first two bodies were wrapped in tarps, the third in a roll of carpet….but the final two were just found lying out in the open," added JJ.

Morgan was quick to remark, "Let's _hope_ they're the final two."

JJ acknowledged the point, and continued with what she'd been saying. "So, does that make our killer organized….and then disorganized?"

Reid almost overspoke her in his eagerness. "I've been thinking about that. I think our killer might still be organized…..but maybe he's physically unable to use the same method. Maybe he's older, or not well. But I think he started with the tarps as a way to move the bodies, ran out of tarps and decided to use carpet….and then found them too hard to lift or drag."

"Either that, or he's devolving, as JJ suggests." The most experienced among them, Rossi knew it was never wise to reach a conclusion too early in a case.

"What else have we got?" Hotch spoke into his open phone. "Garcia?"

"Sir! So, all of the women were single, one had a brief marriage three years ago, but that only lasted a year."

"Did it end amicably, Garcia?" asked the thrice-divorced Rossi.

"As far as I can tell. Her ex still texts her, and it seems friendly. Back to the group…..all were college graduates, all were either athletes or cheerleaders at their schools. Three had gym memberships, but I haven't found anything for the other two."

"Spence found running shoes at the latest victim's apartment. Do we know if all of them were runners, Pen?"

JJ thought a lonely road and an attractive female might provide opportunity for their unsub.

"Well there's no way to know….oh, but I can look at credit card purchases. Back in a jif!"

JJ waited for Reid to report the other thing he'd discovered at the victim's apartment. When he didn't, she spoke for him. "Spence also found that one of the victim's shoes was missing. A green ballet flat. The mate was in her closet."

Hotch's eyes shifted in Reid's direction. "A trophy?"

"Could be."

"So, he took a shoe that she _wasn't_ wearing as a trophy? Does that mean he was at her apartment? Could she have been wearing it earlier on the day she died?"

Morgan knew, as did the rest, that this would be a most unusual incidence of trophy-collecting. Usually the unsub took something from the victim at the time of the killing.

JJ pointed out the obvious. "Then maybe we should rule out running as a commonality among them. She wouldn't have been running in her ballet flats."

Rossi cautioned. "Not so fast. He could have followed her home from her run, and taken her after she'd changed."

"All right," conceded Hotch. "We'll wait for Garcia to get back to us on the running connection. Right now, we need to see if Reid's idea of trophy collecting holds up."

The unit chief made his assignments. He, Rossi and Morgan would each pair with a LEO to revisit the homes of the other three identified victims, with the oxymoronic task of looking for anything obviously missing. That left JJ and Reid to head over to the Georgia Bureau of Investigation, to meet with the medical examiner.

It _should_ have been the least eventful of the assignments.


	2. Chapter 2

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 2**

Once upon a time, the silence between them had been comfortable. Now it seemed anything but, as Reid drove them the thirty minutes to Perry.

_I don't know why I'm so focused on it,_ thought JJ _. It's been different for a while. Ever since the whole thing with Emily. I know I finally got him to say he understood about that, but….maybe I just coerced it from him. Maybe he saw how badly I needed to hear it, and he just gave in. Or maybe he did it just so I'd stop bothering him about it._

They'd finally reached a place of détente, and then, very gradually, worked their way back to some level of trusting friendship. JJ was ever grateful for that when it allowed her to offer comfort to him at the loss of Maeve. She may not have understood his relationship with the woman, but his grief had been palpable. It would have been torture for her to be near him if she hadn't been able to render solace.

But, then, her past had inserted itself between them once again. He'd been the only one among the team to see that she was troubled. _Hell, he was the only one, period. I don't think Will even had a clue. Not about that, and not about…_ That other thing she'd kept from her husband. The one she still found so hard to think about. JJ always tried to rationalize to herself that they hadn't been married then, hadn't made a formal commitment…so, really, the information had been hers to decide to share or not share. But her rationalization always failed. It had, after all, been Will's child, too.

_You're not the only one I've kept things from, Spence._ She'd never been a 'chatter', which was ironic, considering her past role with the team. Never had a bunch of close girlfriends to whom she could divulge her secrets. She'd always been circumspect in what she shared, and whom she shared it with. Losing her sister had made her a more serious child than most. And the social fallout from her sister's suicide had created lingering effects in all of the remaining Jareaus.

Still, sometimes…sometimes she wished….she _longed_ ….to unburden herself. To share it with someone. All of it. Afghanistan, the miscarriage, the humiliation and terror of having been kidnapped and tortured. For a long time now, she'd had the sense that it was only Reid who would be able to take it in without passing judgment. That he was the only one who could simply let her tell her story, and accept that she felt as she felt. She had the sense that he was the only one who could, from his own experience, relate to any part of it.

_But that's not an option any more, is it? Because you kept it from him when he asked. When he was astute enough to see it in you, and to care about it. You turned him away with another lie. And now…..he doesn't ask any more._

She'd been staring out the window so long that Reid felt a need to break the silence.

"So, Henry's pretty excited about starting first grade, I guess."

JJ smiled, glad for the distraction. "I think he's more excited about the idea of riding the school bus than he is anything else."

Reid joined her. "He told me about that. He said he was one of the big kids now."

Henry's mother chuckled. "That he is. He's growing up so fast, Spence. Sometimes I can't believe he's already been in the world for six years. And then, sometimes, it seems like he's been with us for so much longer, you know?"

"A lot's happened in the past six years."

They were still close enough for her to hear the 'something' in his tone that alerted her he wasn't just thinking about Henry. But not close enough to probe. JJ kept it light.

"In another six years he'll be going into middle school."

Reid flashed her a quick smile. "And a year after that, you'll be the mother of a teenager."

_Yikes!_ "Don't even go there, Spencer Reid."

The banter felt good, even if strained. They kept it up until they pulled into the parking lot of the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. The large building housed investigators, crime labs, administrative services and, most pertinent to their quest, the medical examiner's office. Reid held the door for JJ as they entered the GBI together.

* * *

"So, they weren't just stab wounds?" JJ wanted to clarify with the ME.

"No. There are some definite deep penetrations that might indicate…."

"Fury," interjected Reid, "or passion."

"I was going to say that the wounds might reflect some strong emotion, yes." She eyed the young profiler. "Did you want to add anything?"

Reid was appropriately chastised. "Sorry. You were saying?"

The ME seemed placated. "I was saying that the other wounds are directed, purposeful. Your…..what do you call him…the unsub?" At nods from the profilers, the ME continued. "Your unsub seemed to know something about anatomy. Each of the victims had a deep penetration to the femoral artery. It was, no doubt, why they were each exsanguinated."

"Doctor," asked Reid, "how exact are the arterial punctures?"

The ME took new stock of Reid. She hadn't been specific about this, yet the FBI agent seemed to have picked up on it.

"Very good, Dr. Reid. The wounds are _very_ exact. There is a very complex plexus of nerves and blood vessels in the femoral area. To identify and puncture the femoral artery with such accuracy would take a practiced hand."

Reid was on it. "I believe medical students use the acronym NAVEL, for nerve, artery, vein, empty space and lymphatics," he offered, helpfully.

JJ didn't care about NAVEL, but he'd given her an idea. "Would you say it took an _educated_ hand?" Were they looking at someone trained in human anatomy?

"Possibly. But even an educated hand would need luck to get it right, with a single puncture, _every_ _time_."

Reid heard the other implication in the ME's statement. "So, are you saying that the unsub would have done this before? Many times?"

"If I was a betting woman," responded the ME, "that's the bet I would make."

* * *

"So, are we looking for a doctor? A medical student?" As they headed back to Macon, JJ started throwing out possibilities.

"Or a mortician. Maybe even a veterinarian, or a hunter. He might have developed his skill on another type of animal, and refined it on humans."

"God, I hope so," said JJ. "Because if he didn't, that probably means there are a lot of other victims out there."

Both of them let that sink in for a few seconds. Then they turned to each other simultaneously.

"You'd better…." Started Reid, as JJ spoke at the same time. "I'm calling Garcia."

They put their technical analyst to work researching cases of femoral artery penetration nationally.

"And, Pen, look at everything. Murders, assaults. Anything involving the femoral artery," JJ finished.

Reid waved his hand to keep her from ending the call. "Garcia? Look at anything with the carotid artery as well. And I guess you may as well look at the radial artery, too. For all we know, he experimented until he found his signature."

"Can I just say how absolutely grossed out I am at this moment? Because…."

"Garcia," interrupted Reid, "I guess you should look at unexpected suicides as well."

JJ threw a quizzical look in his direction as Garcia said, "Huh?"

"You know. Something that didn't fit. Someone who wasn't depressed. If our unsub experimented with a radial artery exsanguination, it might have looked like a suicide."

"My dearest Boy Wonder, do you realize how many names you've just added to the list?"

"I'm just looking for a pattern, Garcia. If they're completely isolated events, we'll rule them out."

The technical analyst regained her good humor. "Okay, Sweet Genius…..for you, I'll do it." She started to sign off, but had a thought. "Hey, are you guys on the road?"

"Yes, we're on our way back from GBI. Why?" asked JJ.

"I take it the amenities at the police station aren't exactly luxurious?"

Reid snorted. "Was Morgan complaining?"

Garcia sniffed. "Well, let's just say my darling Derek expressed his dissatisfaction with the quality of the caffeinated beverages available."

JJ smiled at the idea. "So, are you asking us to make a coffee run?"

"Well…maybe. If you see something that looks promising. Even better if you find a place that makes decent sandwiches."

"He was complaining about the food, too?" Reid started planning how to rag on Morgan when they returned.

"Actually, it was Rossi complaining about the food. So you can make him happy, too."

The two profilers in the SUV looked at each other and smiled.

"All right, Pen. We'll be on the lookout for a coffee shop that makes great sandwiches."

"Excellent! Preferably one whose name starts with an 'S' or a 'D'. My treat, if you find anything. If you don't…..I'm sorry, and I'll try not to chew any of this delicious dim sum while we're on the phone. PG out."

"Okay, so….do you remember seeing anything on the way out?" asked JJ.

Reid shook his head. "Try your phone. Tell it we want the nearest coffee shop."

JJ chuckled to herself. "So, here's something scary. I've never actually used that feature on my phone. Never used anything voice-activated at all. But, last week, Henry was playing with it. And he told it to find him the nearest place that makes chocolate chip pancakes!"

Reid laughed at his godson's well-known culinary passion. "He knew how?"

She nodded. "It's like it's ingrained in him. Like he's always known it."

"Evolution," concluded Reid.

"I guess. But it's still scary."

"So, did it find his chocolate chip pancakes?"

"Yep. At IHOP. So now he wants to go to IHOP every weekend."

Reid laughed again. "Well, ask it about coffee shops that make sandwiches. Oh, and sandwich shops that sell coffee."

* * *

Forty minutes into their thirty minute trip, the cell phone finally paid off. Not surprisingly, it had brought them near a major highway.

"I guess it doesn't have all these rural areas in it," acknowledged JJ.

"Hmph. I think we've seen every backwoods road in this part of Georgia. Give me a city any day. Vegas and DC have coffee shops on every corner."

She chuckled at Reid's lack of tolerance for small town life. "I grew up in a place that wasn't all that different from this. There was a little town green, and pretty much everything took place there. Once you got away from those four square blocks…..you might as well have been in Georgia."

They walked toward the small convenience store attached to a gas station. Its saving grace had been the two chain coffeemakers' signs in the window.

"I don't know that we'll find Rossi's sandwiches," said Reid, "but at least we'll be able to make Morgan happy with the coffee."

"If it's not too cold by the time we get it there. My best guess is that we're still twenty minutes away."

Reid snorted. "Give him something to complain about...that will make him happy."

A quick tour of the shop told them that Reid had been right. They found the coffee area in a far aisle, and the food selections in a refrigerated section at the back of the store. It seemed the only prepared food available was an unappetizing selection of pre-made sandwiches, each comprised of some sort of meat and cheese, on squished white bread.

"Rossi's gourmet palate will have a heart attack if we bring him these, Spence. I think we should just stick with the coffee."

Reid agreed. At least the coffeemaker was modern, and there were pods of brand name flavors-both 'S' and 'DD' -in the display. The two profilers got busy brewing and tailoring five cups of java for the team. They were nearly ready to check out when they heard a commotion at the front of the store. There was so much shouting and noise of things falling that it was hard to make out what was happening.

Reid's few inches of height advantage allowed him to see a flash of movement behind the checkout counter, and someone apparently reaching over it. It was hard to know if the clerk was being threatened, or if he was having some sort of emergency and being attended to by a patron. But once the rest of the customers were rendered silent by the shouting at the front, there was no question.

"Down! Get down on the floor!" The 'customer' at the counter seemed to be shouting at the cashier and those nearest him. Reid dared to get on tiptoes for a second, wanting to get a look at the person's hands. Alarmed at what he saw, he pushed JJ down and squatted behind the coffee counter with her.

"It's a robbery. He's armed."

JJ was already reaching for her weapon. "Well, so are we. How do you want to do this?"

They both knew that, despite outnumbering their target, they needed to proceed with caution. There were too many other civilians in the store. And, besides, they weren't dealing with a killer here. Not yet, anyway. The best thing would be for the cashier to hand over the money and end the event. But he didn't seem to be doing so.

"I think he's the owner. It looks like he wants to fight it out," whispered Reid.

"Great. Why don't these guys take some kind of course on how to deal with holdups?" JJ sighed. "All right. Any ideas?"

"Maybe I can crawl to the head of the aisle and get around behind him." Reid was thinking of using his weapon as a blunt object to incapacitate the robber.

"Okay. When you get in place, I'll stand up and create a distraction."

"NO!" If a whisper could be shouted, Reid had done it. "You'd be in danger. Just throw something into that far corner. There aren't any customers there."

"Better idea. But, Spence…..don't take a chance. If he doesn't turn away, don't try it." That thing that had been niggling at her lately showed itself again. "Spence? Did you hear me? Don't…okay?"

It took him too long to answer, but he did. "Okay." He turned to go, but then turned back and said, "Be careful, okay?"

She flashed him a smile. "You too."

Reid began crab-walking down the aisle, listening to the robber yelling at the cashier.

"You heard me! Put it all in a plastic bag. And throw in a roll of lottery tickets!"

_Seriously?_ thought Reid. _You commit an armed robbery and you want to try your luck at the lottery?_

He was almost to the head of the aisle when he heard, "What's that? What's moving?"

Too late, Reid saw the mirror mounted just below the ceiling. It was too rounded to give the cashier's area a clear look at where Reid was, but apparently it had shown his movement. And, to Reid's alarm….it showed JJ.

He began to motion to her that they would have to accelerate their plan when that plan came to an abrupt halt. Rather than the robber's voice, Reid heard the bell signaling the opening of the outside door to the store. His eyes peered out the front window to see a young mother holding the door for a little girl about Henry's age.

_No! Don't come in!_ But it was too late. The perp was too near the door. Before anyone else could react, he'd grabbed the little girl, and held the gun to her head.

"I want everyone in my line of sight in the next five seconds, or she's dead! That includes you behind the counter over there. Don't think I can't see you!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 3**

"You heard me! Everybody out into this front aisle, where I can see you!"

Both profilers heard the edge of panic in the young man's voice, but only Reid could see the trembling of his hand. The young perpetrator had one arm around the neck of the little girl, who seemed to be in shock, and the other held his gun. He waved it back and forth between the store owner and his hostage, occasionally stopping to aim it at a random shopper in the aisle.

Reid took a quick mental inventory. Besides himself and JJ, there were a total of eight other innocent lives in the store. The cashier was moving out from behind the counter, and the several others were obediently relocating to the front aisle. JJ seemed, briefly, to curl in upon herself, causing some consternation in Reid. But then he saw her kick her FBI badge and her holster under the counter, and realized she'd moved her gun to her back waistband. He quickly did the same, giving thanks for his unfashionably loose belt, which allowed him room to store his oversized weapon in the hollow of his back.

"You, too-the blonde back there! And Skinny over in front! Get over here, both of you!"

The thief moved his gun in each of their directions as he addressed them.

"Okay, okay…I'm coming! Don't get excited about it!"

Reid purposely used the singular to distance himself from JJ as he approached with his hands raised. It was probably better if their captor didn't know they were together.

JJ came around the back of the aisle she'd been in and entered the front aisle silently, head down and arms raised, looking every bit the intimidated female.

"All of you, down on the floor…..and put your hands where I can see them!"

The two profilers subtly maneuvered such that they were seated next to one another. Before they could attempt to communicate with each other, Reid decided to have a go at their captor.

"Man, why don't you just take the money and go? No one's going to stop you now. Isn't that right?" He looked pointedly at the owner/clerk.

"Right," agreed the man. Alone, he would have stood his ground. But he was a father, and a grandfather, and he wasn't about to have a little girl hurt over something as inconsequential as money.

The thief seemed uncertain, as though suspecting a trick.

"Well…..well…..all right, then. Open the register."

He used his gun to gesture the clerk back to the counter. The man rose and started forward…..and then stopped in place. All of them did. Because they all heard the sirens outside, followed, mere seconds later, by the reflection of the rotating red and blue lights of the police vehicles that ran them.

The young man with the gun became more agitated. "You! You called them!" He waved his gun violently at the clerk, who now looked frightened for his life. Then the young man seemed to remember the others who'd been in the store when he'd made his robbery attempt.

"You! Did you call them?" He started down the aisle, pointing the gun at each of them in succession, his hand shaking more with each passing moment.

Each of the hostages shook their heads, including Reid and JJ. Infuriated, the young man grabbed the child once again. "Someone's going to tell me who called the police, or this little kiddo is dead!"

JJ and Reid had been focused on the action _outside_ the store. Thankful that the police seemed to be following sound procedure, they saw the four assembled law enforcement officers gathered behind the door of one of their vehicles.

_Thank God they didn't just come barreling in here_ , thought JJ. _This guy is barely more than a kid, and he's scared to death. If they keep their heads out there, we might be able to work it from in here._

She was startled when one of the other customers spoke up. "It wasn't any of us. I saw it. There was somebody else about to come in right after that little girl and her mother. They saw what you did. _They_ probably called the police."

The thief was caught off guard by that. JJ thought she saw a glimmer of relief. _He doesn't want to shoot. Okay, good. But he's still too jittery. If we're not careful, he'll end up firing anyway._ She chanced a look to her side, and could tell that Reid had reached the same conclusion.

The next thing all of them heard was the voice of a police sergeant coming over their PA system, replete with a thick southern drawl.

"All right, son. You can see we're all out here. There's only one way this is gonna end, so we may as well get there sooner, rather than later. I advise you to come on out of there with your hands in the air. If you do, I promise you….nobody will get hurt."

Several of the other customers, feeling a little bravado with the arrival of the police, began to echo the sergeant's words. "Go ahead!" "You're not going to get away anyway! Give yourself up!"

_Stop!_ thought Reid. _Give him time to think. You're not helping!_ But he dared not say it aloud, lest he agitate the young man further.

The frightened little girl had had enough. Her chest began to hiccup in preparation for launching a full out assault of wailing. Even though Henry wasn't much of a crier, Reid recognized the preliminaries and knew what was coming. It gave him cover to share a few words with JJ.

As the first wail began, Reid leaned over just enough to draw JJ toward him. He kept his eyes forward, and moved his lips as little as possible.

"I think I can talk him out of it. But he's too skittish. I want to get the others out first," he whispered.

"How?"

"I'm going to offer myself. He can let the rest of you go, and then I'll try to talk him down."

"Spence, no! You can't take a chance like that!" She was having trouble keeping her voice down.

"I don't see that we have a choice, JJ. He's scared. You can see that, right?"

She nodded.

"I think I can get him to give up. But he's not stable right now. I'm afraid he'll hurt someone without even planning it."

"But…I think we should both stay behind. We're both armed. If talking him down isn't working, we can still subdue him."

"No! I want you outside with the rest of them!"

It was so unlike him to be forceful with her that she was momentarily speechless. But only momentarily.

"I think I should stay with you." JJ heard her stubbornness come out.

Reid took a deep breath in a vain effort to calm himself. "JJ….listen to me." He held her eyes intently. "You have a husband, and a son. Please don't make this harder than it is. Please let me do this."

_You still have love. Mine is in the ground._

Before she could respond, Reid had struggled to his feet, drawing the thief's attention.

"What are you doing up? Sit down!"

Reid had his hands in the air again. "I will, I will. I just… let the little girl go. Let her go…let _all_ these people go. I'll stay with you. The police won't do anything if you have a hostage with you. But you don't need all these people. Just keep me."

_Spence!_ JJ wished she could shout it aloud.

"Sit down! Sit down or I'll shoot her!"

But Reid had seen the young thief's grip on the child loosen just an iota, and knew he had him. He remained standing.

"Go ahead. Let her go. Let _all_ of them go. I'll stay with you."

"But…" The robber started to stammer when another of the hostages spoke up.

"You heard him! He's willing to stay behind. You can let the little girl and her mother go. You can let _all_ of us go!"

Reid's gaze was focused on the thief, but his brain was attentive enough to notice what was in his peripheral vision. He saw the miniscule movement of JJ's left arm and leg, and knew, in an instant, that she was about to offer herself as a second hostage. He did his best to rivet her in place with his eyes.

_NO!_

She froze, viscerally feeling the imperative in his unspoken command. She could do nothing but obey it. JJ slowly relaxed the tension in her limbs and sank completely back to the floor.

Reid was back at their captor, now using what JJ always thought of as his 'unsub voice'. It was the tone he used to persuade perpetrators that he understood them, that there was potential for redemption. He used it now to try to convince the young man that there was still hope for things to end well.

"The police don't care about the money. They only care about the hostages. If you let them go, it will be a lot less trouble for you."

"But I will still be in trouble, right?"

Reid knew enough not to lie outright. It would be too obvious, and might set the young man off.

"Yes. You'll still be in trouble. But you haven't actually stolen anything and no one has gotten hurt. If you make sure it stays that way, it will be a lot better for you."

"But…they'll still arrest me, right?"

The young man's vulnerability showed itself. Reid thought he might be able to penetrate it, but doing so could make the man volatile. He needed to get the others out first.

"Listen…what's your name?"

Reid knew he'd established some sort of rapport when the young man didn't hesitate to reply.

"Darren."

"Darren….listen. I know a little bit about how this works. If you can just let the others out, I can talk you through it. I think I can talk the police into being lenient." He saw the words going over the robber's head. "I can talk them into going easy on you."

"How?"

"I can convince them that nothing bad happened in here. That you didn't mean to hurt anyone, and you didn't. And you didn't take anything that didn't belong to you."

"But they know I have hostages! They saw I have a gun!"

"And they'll know you let the hostages go. And that you didn't use your gun."

"What if I just take you with me? Then they can't arrest me at all." One more try at gaining the upper hand.

The conversation had been going so well that JJ had fallen into a sense of complacency that they would come out of this unscathed. After all, her logical brain told her, they'd just come in for coffee and sandwiches. There was no way such a simple errand could have turned into a life-or-death situation. Right?

Reid didn't want the thief entertaining a selection of possible outcomes. All he wanted the young man to do was to let the hostages go. Then he could try to reason with him, to get him to surrender before he'd committed a more serious crime. For now, Reid just tried to focus the young man on the one thing.

"Darren, the main thing the police want is for you to let these people go."

Suddenly, the thief's demeanor changed, flavored by suspicion. "Why do you keep talking about 'these people'? And how do you know what the police want? Are you one of them?"

Only JJ saw the split-second readjustment of Reid's stance, as he was momentarily thrown, and recovered.

"Of course not! I was just here for coffee."

One of the other customers was developing some bravado…which worried Reid. The man spoke up.

"What, do you seriously think the police knew you were going to try to knock off a gas station? You think they have time to arrange a stake out for a petty thief?"

Darren appeared more confused than angry. But still suspicious. He turned his gun back on Reid.

"He's right. So, if you're not a cop…..why are you willing to stay behind?"

_Yeah, Spence. Why are you willing to stay behind?_ JJ thought she already knew the answer.

Reid responded with a half-truth. "I just don't like to see anyone get hurt if It's not necessary. Not any of these customers, and not you."

The sincerity in Reid's voice got to Darren. He didn't lower the gun, but the tension in his arm eased just a little.

"Why me? Why would you care about me?"

Reid ran his eyes over the assembled hostages sitting on the floor, letting them rest on JJ for a moment before turning back to their captor. It looked like he was going to have to attempt his persuasion without having assured the others' safety. He took a deep, calming breath and began.

"Darren, when you woke up today, did you think, 'I feel like robbing someone', or 'I'd like to hurt someone'?

"No! No."

"I didn't think so. You don't really want to hurt anyone, do you, Darren?"

"I….no." Hesitating a moment. "But I will if I have to! If they make me…."

"No one is going to make you hurt anyone, Darren. It doesn't have to happen. You didn't plan to do this today at all, did you?"

The young man seemed to be having an emotional response to Reid's words. He struggled to speak.

"I didn't…but…."

"What the hell?!" It was the outspoken customer who'd challenged Darren earlier. "You brought a gun with you! Are you trying to say that was only a coincidence?"

JJ did her best to stare down the interjector. Reid had been making progress, but this man could derail everything.

Darren was visibly flustered. "I…."

Reid hurriedly spoke over him. _If I provide the words for him, maybe he won't get as riled._

"You didn't intend to do it, Darren. It wasn't planned. You never wanted to see anyone get hurt. But something….what….something went wrong? Did something go wrong, Darren?"

"Yes! I…my piece-of-trash car broke down. I had to hitch a ride to work, but my boss fired me anyway. Said it was the third time I was late this month."

"So you thought it would be a good idea to…..oww!" JJ had managed to stomp the heel of her boot into Mr. Outspoken's instep, effectively silencing him.

Reid took back the conversation, using his most soothing tone. "What happened next, Darren?"

"My girlfriend needed me to get a car seat for our baby…..she's supposed to come home tomorrow. But how was I gonna buy a car seat with no money? They're expensive, them damn things. 'Course why do we need a car seat if we don't have no damn car…"

"So you just needed some money to get a car seat…" Reid encouraged him.

"And to get my car fixed! I can't be bringing my baby home on some damn bus!"

JJ could almost hear the retort forming in the brain of the outspoken hostage next to her. _How do you think she's getting home now? Are we supposed to believe you were carrying a gun to work?_ _Were you planning to bring it to the hospital, too?_ She turned to face the man and mouthed the word 'NO!' She was relieved to see him biting his cheeks to hold back his words.

"All right, then, Darren. So, you never meant to hurt anyone, and you haven't. I'm sorry you lost your job. It wasn't your fault, was it? You couldn't know your car would stall."

"'Course not! But you think my boss cares about that? You think he cares about my baby? No!"

Reid kept his voice low and soft. "I'm sorry about that, Darren. I'm sorry your boss wasn't sympathetic. But you have some good things going on in your life now, don't you? You have a baby! Babies are…they're great, babies are great. They make your life so much better, don't they?"

Suddenly, JJ wasn't studying Darren for his response any longer. Her attention was drawn to Reid, her gaze trying to move past the surface. This wasn't just about trying to talk down a criminal any more. There was something much deeper in Reid's voice. Something of pain...something of truth.

Her eyes went back to Darren when he responded. "She's beautiful, my baby girl. Chelsea. That's what Amber called her. Chelsea."

Reid swallowed, knowing he was approaching the critical moment, and knowing how high the stakes could get if it didn't go well.

"Chelsea. That's a beautiful name." He shifted on his feet, trying to gird himself for any kind of response. "Darren, you have a baby now. I can tell that you already love her very much. I know you want her in your life, and you want to be in hers. But that can only happen if you do the right thing now. You need to turn yourself in, Darren. The police won't hurt you. And they'll find someone who can help Amber and Chelsea get home, and whatever else they need. You might be apart from them for a little while, but it won't be long. But, if you run…..you won't be with them at all. That isn't what you want, is it?"

Darren was unsuccessfully fighting tears. JJ began to wonder if he was distracted enough for her to make a move, but his words stilled her.

"I…I don't….I don't want to be away…but…" He raised pleading eyes to Reid's. "Do you think they'd let her visit me?"

Reid nodded. "They definitely will. Chelsea will know you're her dad. And she'll know you only wanted the best for her."

The young thief let out a sob. "I did. I do." With no further words, he flipped the gun in his hand and extended the handle toward Reid.

The other hostages, save JJ, were uncertain. Could they move? Were they free?

Reid put an arm across Darren's shoulders and started toward the door. "Let me go out first. I'll make sure they know you're doing this on your own."

JJ held her breath as Reid opened the door and started outside. It wouldn't have been the first time a skittish officer had fired on the wrong person. She watched as her colleague walked through the door, one arm raised, the other now back around Darren's shoulders.

"Don't shoot! He's unarmed. He's surrendering himself of his own accord."

The police rushed forward and grabbed both of them, cautiously making certain they'd ascertained which was their perpetrator before letting either loose. JJ rushed out the door and pointed at Darren.

"That's your thief. And Agent Reid's right. He surrendered himself. Keep that in mind, please."

Darren's eyes flew to Reid. "Agent?"

Reid shrugged. "FBI. But we really were there just to get coffee."

Darren stared at Reid for a long minute. "Will you tell them? What you said in there…..will you tell them? And about Chelsea?"

"I'll tell them everything, Darren. And I'll make sure Chelsea gets home from the hospital okay."

Darren tried to smile, but his mouth found the situation too grim. "You're standup, Agent Reid. Thank you."

Reid returned his own regretful grin as the young man was marched off and put into the back of a patrol car.

The police sergeant running the scene approached Reid and JJ. "FBI, huh? Got any credentials?"

The two exchanged a look. They'd almost forgotten.

"Stowed under the shelves in the back aisle, Sergeant," explained JJ. "We didn't want to set him off if he started asking for ID."

The police officer nodded. "Good idea. Why don't you two just wait here with these good officers while I go and confirm that, all right?

They weren't about to argue. The pair stood to the side while the sergeant went in to retrieve their badges. JJ decided to take advantage of the moment.

"Spence…..you took a big chance in there."

"It turned out all right, didn't it? For us, anyway. I'm not so sure how it will turn out for Darren."

"Yes, of course, it worked. You did great with him….but you still took a huge chance."

"I didn't see any other options, JJ. He had that little girl at gunpoint. Would you have let him hurt her?"

"No, of course not! But he could have shot _you_ , Spence. You made yourself a target by standing and speaking out."

"Better me than that little girl…" He'd muttered it, but she'd heard. But before she could respond, JJ heard her name being shouted.

"JJ! Reid! You two all right?"

It was Morgan, running from the SUV that had just come peeling into the parking lot. Hotch and Rossi were right behind him.

"Morgan? How did you know?" She'd thought of trying to send a text when it all began, but Darren had been watching in the mirror by then.

"You took so long getting back, we had Baby Girl ping your cells. And then she fessed up about sending you for coffee...she feels pretty bad about that now, you know."

Reid spoke up. "Tell her not to. It was good we were here. It would have gone down anyway."

"Spence is right. If he hadn't been here, someone might have been hurt."

"Pretty Boy?" Morgan sounded surprised that Reid had foiled the robbery.

"Yes, 'Pretty Boy'. _Spence_ talked the kid down and got everyone out without so much as a shot being fired or even a punch being thrown. He was pretty impressive."

JJ made no mention of her earlier challenge of Reid's judgment.

"Well, okay, then, Agent Pretty Boy. Good work." Morgan patted Reid on the back.

"Good work, Reid," said the taciturn Hotch.

The police sergeant emerged from the shop with the BAU agents' credentials and holsters.

"Sorry if I sounded skeptical. Here you go."

After a few more words with the police, and an exchange of contact information, the BAU agents started heading to their respective SUVs. Reid stopped off at the patrol car holding the prisoner. He knocked on the window to get Darren's attention.

"Which hospital?" He had to raise his voice to be heard through the glass. A puzzled look from Darren made him repeat himself. "Which hospital? I want to make sure they get home okay."

Tears immediately flooded the young man's face. "Macon General. Her name is Amber Jackson. Thanks, man."

Reid nodded. "You can thank me by standing up through the rest of this. And being there for Amber and Chelsea. A child needs a father." _I should know._

Darren could only nod.

* * *

It was decided Morgan would drive the SUV JJ and Reid were traveling in, giving them a break. JJ was grateful for the consideration, but disappointed at the inadvertent result. It put a kink in her plan to confront Reid about the events that had just unfolded, and the mindset that had led to them.

_All right for you now, Spencer Reid. But we will be talking about this. I'm going to make sure of it._


	4. Chapter 4

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 4**

It was as though fate didn't want the conversation to take place, thought JJ. For the two days following the incident at the gas station, she worked with Rossi, with Morgan, with Hotch and Reid together, and with a GBI investigator. She was never alone with Reid. She even began to wonder if Hotch was making his assignments mindful of how much trouble his two youngest agents seemed to get into whenever they were paired.

The hypothesis about their unsub having intimate knowledge of anatomy had taken them in several different directions, and wasted a fair amount of time. Macon hosted a medical school, and its hospitals served as home base for a large number of resident and attending physicians, any one of whom could qualify as their unsub, based solely on their skills in dissecting the human body. And there were the requisite numbers of mortuaries and morticians. But none of that could compare to the contribution of sport. Hunting and hunters were endemic in rural Georgia. It seemed that at least half the population was skilled in exsanguinating an animal after a kill.

"So, what...are we saying we suspect everyone in the state?" Morgan's attempt at humor was tempered by his frustration. They'd learned things about their unsub, but those things had simply increased the suspect pool.

Although they'd initially seen it as a tangential issue, desperate times called for desperate measures. And, as was improbably true, those measures paid off. With the help of Garcia, they'd followed up on the possible running connection. All four identified victims had used their credit cards to buy running shoes within the past six months. Since each of the women had been living alone, apart from their families, it took a bit of ground work to find friends and neighbors who knew anything about their running routes. But the ground work paid off. There was a two mile overlap among the routes, a lonely piece of road among many lonely pieces of road near Macon.

Once that information came in, Hotch convened a meeting of their makeshift task force. The BAU team explained the advances in the case to those assembled. One of the Macon cops was overtly skeptical.

"Why are we putting all of our eggs into this one basket? A lot of women jog. Why put so much weight on this?"

Hotch led his team off in giving a little lesson in profiling. "When we're called in to assist with a case, we approach it from the standpoint of what is available for us to profile. Is it the unsub…..the perpetrator…..who might speak to us through his methodology? Or is it the set of victims, who may have something in common that is only really discernible to the unsub? Or is it something about the crime scene, or the location or position of the body? If we're very lucky, we're able to look at more than one aspect at a time."

Rossi spoke next. "In this case, our unsub has told us that he is organized enough to use a similar method for each of his kills. Each of the victims was stabbed, but also had specific puncture wounds to a major artery."

Morgan followed with, "He also makes his kills in one location, and dumps the bodies at a second site. Each of the first three victims was found unclothed, but wrapped in something….a tarp, or a roll of carpet."

"The final two victims," offered Reid, were simply found uncovered, but with evidence that they'd been dragged. We think he may have become too weak to pull the additional weight of the cover. We don't know if he took the running clothes or discarded them."

"But we do know he's a trophy collector," added JJ. "A single shoe was missing from each of our victims' closets. Which also means that, if he encountered them all while they were jogging, he either followed them home, or he accosted them on their route, and then used any identification they carried to go to their homes. All of these behaviors are consistent with an organized, compulsive personality."

There were nods around the room, as each member of the task force gave nonverbal expression to their understanding. Hotch made a subtle dip of his head in Reid's direction, prompting the younger man to continue the lesson.

"In this particular case, we think our victims are telling us something as well. They shared a number of things in common. Each woman was within a few years of her thirtieth birthday, each currently single and living alone, each employed, some as professionals, and some in service jobs. And, each was a runner." He paused a moment, to let that sink in, then continued. "But none of that is sufficient to explain how they all came to be in the hands of the unsub. There aren't _enough_ similarities. There are no overlaps in areas of residence, or places of worship, or places of work, or shopping habits. Two belonged to gyms, but not the same one. There is no one they seemed to know in common, including each other."

Rossi took it over from him. "But, even though there is no overlap in where they shopped, there _is_ overlap in what they bought. Each woman bought a pair of running shoes within the past few months."

The same Macon cop spoke again. "So did half the county. Again, why are we focusing on this?"

Hotch moved his eyes around the room, keeping all of them engaged. The others weren't publicly challenging the BAU's approach, but that didn't mean they didn't each have their own doubts.

"One of the tools we use is geographic profiling. Dr. Reid is expert in the process. I'll let him explain what he found."

Reid wheeled over a mobile bulletin board and used it as a reference as he recapped what he'd plotted earlier in the case…homes, work places, the (now) two identified kill sites, and the dump sites. Then he used a set of brightly colored markers to draw the running routes of each of the identified victims.

"Okay, that's victim number four. Tell me, what do you see?"

It had been one thing to hear the BAU announce what they'd found, and the strategy they planned. It was another thing entirely to see it illustrated.

"That's pretty convincing," said the Macon Chief of Police. "They're all over the place except for that area there." He turned to his outspoken patrol officer. "What do you think now, Bobby?"

"I guess I didn't quite see what was so convincing….until now. I still worry about tying us all up in the one operation….but I get what you're thinking."

Morgan gave the man an appreciative nod, knowing that it wasn't always easy to make a concession. He made one of his own.

"If it doesn't pan out, it won't be something we'll do indefinitely. The time between abductions has been narrowing. If we're right, he'll be trolling the area within the next twenty four hours, so we want to be ready for him."

Hotch took back the reins. "So, to review. We'll use some additional GBI and patrol officers for this, so we'll be able to cover the full stretch of road. We'll have only the four vehicles posted, one at each of the crossroads. The rest of you will cover from the wooded areas along the way. Agent Jareau will run the route from the north this evening and from the south tomorrow morning. She will be armed, and she will have her communications link opened."

Reid's eyes went involuntarily to JJ. He'd wanted desperately to fight the plan, but known it was really the only way they could go. But to have her virtually dangled as bait before their unsub ate at him. They didn't have the person-power to assure that someone would be close by enough if the unsub attacked her.

_What if he's fast? What if he's quiet, and she doesn't hear him coming?_ They'd profiled that he must be using a vehicle, but that didn't mean he didn't first approach the women on foot. _What if he overpowers her, knocks her out? Having a radio and a gun won't help her at all then._

In what had been their only few minutes alone since the gas station, he'd tried to talk her out of it.

"I don't like it, JJ. It's too much of a risk. We're here to profile, not to put ourselves directly into the hands of the unsub."

She'd been mixing her coffee, and he'd been speaking to her back. When she turned around to face him, he misread the look of argument on her face.

"I'm not saying you're not capable. God knows, you'd have a better chance at taking him down than I would. But it's still a risk and I don't….." Rethinking his phrasing…"and you shouldn't take it."

He'd been right about her getting ready to give him an argument. But it hadn't been about whether she could handle their unsub. She'd been about to throw his own argument back at him. 

_Seriously, Spence? You're going to tell me that I take too many chances? What do you call what you did, just before…and before that, and before that…and.._

There had been countless times Reid had put himself in harm's way. It was never out of hubris, as it might be for some. It was always out of a genuine concern for helping whomever he was trying to help, victim or unsub, without any actual attention to the fact that he was putting himself in danger.

She'd long ago come to realize that, deep in his heart, he felt like he had nothing to lose. No one to mourn him, no hole left in someone's life if he was gone. But that was then, and this was now. Now, she felt like there was something different in him. Something that had let go. Before, he'd seemed like he was just holding on too tightly to the need to help someone, rather than to his own life. Now, it seemed like he wasn't holding on tightly to anything at all.

That was what she'd been about to tell him, the argument she'd been about to make…..but Hotch's summons to the task force meeting had interrupted them, and the words had gone unspoken.

* * *

Morgan and Rossi were in one of the BAU vehicles, Hotch and Reid in the other. By Reid's calculation, JJ should be coming across their path in about eight point four minutes.

The unit chief noticed Reid's frequent checks of the time, and correctly read the young man's anxiety.

"We've got the whole route covered, Reid. She'll be fine."

Embarrassed at being found out, Reid blushed as he replied, "I know. I know she will. But….I guess I just haven't gotten used to it."

The famed heavy brow rose. "To JJ's being in the field? Reid, she came out with us even when she was still our liaison."

"But she never put herself directly in the line of fire back then. The only times she got hurt were when I screwed up." The Hankel and the case in California, when he'd let her go alone to interview another potential witness who turned out to be their unsub. That he'd been on crutches at the time, recovering from his own injury in the line of duty, seemed to perpetually escape his notice whenever he revisited that particular episode.

"Neither of which were your fault. I thought we'd put that to rest."

"We did. It's just…..well, she didn't have a family before, either. What will happen to Henry if something happens to JJ?" Not giving even a moment's thought to Will's role in his godson's upbringing.

"Reid, she's a valued agent who is very good at her job, and very capable of making her own decisions. You're going to have to let her do that, and find a way to accept it."

Reid sighed. "I know. That's what I think she was going to tell me when I…."

Hotch couldn't help himself….he snorted. "When you what? Did you actually try to tell Jennifer Jareau to step back? You're a brave man, Reid."

* * *

They heard her breathing through the open comm, her respirations at first coming easily, then with more purpose and force as she was further into her run. Reid swore he could hear the uneven cadence of her footfalls, first the heavier left, then the lighter right.

"O-kay, o-kay, o-kay, o-kay…" She breathed a syllable with each step. It was her signal that all seemed well. Any interruption to the word would be a signal to the closest teams to start toward her.

In time, they saw her come over a small rise in the road. Her pony tail bounced behind her as she strode easily across the expanse of road that intersected with the one on which they were parked.

"O-kay, o-kay…"

Reid spoke into his microphone. "You're just passing in front of us, JJ. That means you're half-way there."

"O- _kay,_ o-kay, o-kay…" Her emphasis indicated she'd heard him.

With one mile down, the tension rose for the duration of the next. Reid closed his eyes so he could picture himself running beside her with every word. _O-kay, o-kay, o-kay, o-_

His eyes flew open. Her feet could still be heard pounding the pavement but she was no longer vocalizing. "Hotch!"

The unit chief had already started the SUV, and now eased it into the road. He started forward slowly, not wanting to frighten away the unsub before he'd had a chance to approach.

"Morgan?" Reid struggled to get his voice back down to its normal pitch.

"We heard it, Kid. We're ready." They would wait in their crossroad until a further signal.

Reid's ears seemed to strain against his headset. He could still hear her running, still hear her breath.

"We're coming, JJ. We're on the road. If you need us right now, just say the word."

"No….not….now…" Still in cadence with her feet.

Another twenty seconds passed before they heard her voice again. "Hey," she huffed, "you okay?"

Her steps had gradually slowed, and now appeared to have stopped altogether. "You all right?"

Then they heard a male voice, the age indeterminate. "I'm afraid I've twisted my knee. I can call my wife to come get me, but I left home without my cell. Do you happen to have one I can borrow?"

"That's how he got them, Hotch. He feigned injury, and got them to move in close. He grabbed them when they handed him their cells. It's probably also how he knew where they lived."

He'd closed off his communication with JJ. They didn't want any of their other voices coming through her comm when she was this close to the unsub. But that didn't mean he wasn't listening in, intently. They couldn't arrest the man for sitting by the side of the road. They needed to let things unfold a bit more…..but without endangering JJ's life.

They all heard her response to the man. "Oh, of course! Here…. Oomphgg..."

Reid's heart leapt. "Something's happened!" Hotch must have agreed, because he pressed his foot to the accelerator.

"Oomphgg….now! Now!" They heard the urgency in JJ's voice and the ongoing scuffle.

Seconds seemed like minutes, even though only fifteen of them passed before they had JJ in sight, the SUV carrying their colleagues also rapidly approaching from the opposite direction.

Reid was out of the vehicle before it stopped, as was Morgan on the other end. Both had their guns drawn, but neither could chance a shot with JJ and the unsub scrappling with each other. Then, suddenly, they heard a loud grunt, and then a shout of pain. JJ had kneed the unsub in the groin. The man was doubled over.

Morgan cuffed the man and handed him over to the police who'd also closed in from their positions on the periphery of the two mile stretch. He made his way back over to his colleagues.

"Nice knee work there, Pennsylvania Petite. You didn't learn that in my hand-to-hand course."

JJ was still bent over, hands on her thighs, trying to catch her breath. "Didn't need to. Already knew it."

Reid bent over next to her, his hand on her back. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head. "I'm okay. Just a couple of scrapes. We rolled around a little bit before guys got here."

Hotch stepped over to them after talking with the police. "They'll charge him for your assault first, and then go for a DNA match to the victims. I don't think there's any question it will confirm him." He started to turn away, but spun back. "Nice work, Agent Jareau."

She grinned back at him, rejuvenated now. "Thanks."

* * *

While JJ was debriefed by the various investigative and legal entities involved in the case, Reid took care of another necessary task. He found the Macon Social Services office inside the City Hall building and arranged for assistance for Amber Jackson and her daughter, Chelsea.

"Thank you, Agent Reid. We actually have a very nice program for first time parents. I'll connect with the hospital social worker and see if we can't entice Miss Jackson to join it. They can help her with anything she needs to know about taking care of her baby….and about taking care of herself."

"Great. Thank you so much. And….if you don't mind…." He pulled a few bills from his wallet. "This is all I have with me, but I'd like to make sure she gets that car seat."

The social services director smiled as she accepted the money. "I'll see that it happens. Thank you."

* * *

The trip home was filled with chatter, as so often happened when they'd had a positive outcome….or as positive as an outcome could be, given the business they were in. Their members had been threatened and, both times, beaten the threat. It was a time for celebrating that fact, not a time for a serious discussion of risk-taking and the things that contributed to it.

Reid did his best to pack his concern away. It wasn't his place to advise a colleague against doing her job, even if said colleague had, at least at one time, borne the title of 'best friend'. If anyone should be begging her to stay safe, it was her husband, the father of her child. Reid could only wonder if Will had done so.

JJ, on the other hand, simply tabled her concern. The one-time best friend of Spencer Reid still cared too much about him. And, besides, he didn't have anyone else. Which, she suspected, was precisely the problem.


	5. Chapter 5

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 5**

It wasn't like she was making a big project of it, JJ reasoned. She just didn't want to let it slide. It had already been a few months that she'd been noticing it, and she didn't want to look back one day and realize she'd let those months grow into years.

_Not that I think he'd last that long. He'll just keep pushing the rest of us out of the way until he gets what he wants._

It wasn't that she thought he hadn't helped save Blake from being shot for all the right reasons. She just suspected he might have done it for the wrong reasons, as well.

* * *

"So, four o'clock, then? I know Henry will want to have some time to play with you before dinner." Technically, it wasn't a lie.

"Four o'clock. Are you sure you don't want me to bring anything?"

"Just yourself. Spence, do you realize Henry's barely seen you since you were in the hospital? And, the last time he did, you still had that enormous bandage on your neck."

He gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry about that. I should have thought to wear a turtleneck, or something. I didn't mean to scare him."

"I know." Then she giggled. "I'll bet you never thought you'd be sporting quite so many Spiderman band-aids, huh?"

He laughed outright. "I stopped for sugar on the way home, and I forgot he'd put them all over the bandage. The clerk asked me if I needed someone to kiss my boo-boo."

She laughed along with him. "Ha! I'll bet she just thought you had a kid at home, who'd taken care of his dad."

Immediately after she said it, she felt bad. They'd had an exchange about children last year….and then she'd remembered it when she'd feared for his life back in Texas. She knew that he longed for that child she'd just joked about.

"Sorry, Spence. I didn't mean…"

"Four o'clock. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night, JJ."

* * *

It had only been a minor deception. After the ones about Emily's death and her own time in Afghanistan, JJ considered it inconsequential. So she wasn't the least bit self-conscious when she answered the door at precisely four o'clock the next afternoon.

"Hi, Spence. Come on in."

He whisked his hand from behind his back and produced a package. "It's chocolate chip ice cream. I know Henry loves the pancakes, so I thought..."

"You can't possibly go wrong with anything connected to chocolate chips. Not with Henry….and not with his mom."

He grinned. "Then I guessed right! Especially since they don't make Cheeto-flavored ice cream."

She punched his shoulder as she laughed at the well-intentioned barb. "Come on into the kitchen. You can help me chop."

Reid looked around as he followed her down the hallway. "Where's Henry? I thought he'd want to visit for a while."

She didn't even blush as she told him what she'd known all along. "Oh, he and Will are at a father-son thing at his school. They'll be home around five."

If Reid thought it was odd that she hadn't called him to adjust the time, he didn't choose to mention it. Instead, he dutifully pulled a sharp knife and cutting board from where he knew they were stored, and got going on the ingredients for their salad.

JJ stirred a pot on the stove. "So, have you heard anything from Blake?"

"Yes, in fact. She sent me an e-mail the other day. She moved into James' apartment, but they're looking for a house. And she's going to be giving a course in linguistics next semester."

JJ was surprised. "She's not teaching at all this fall?"

Reid kept working on the green pepper in his hand. "I think she needed to decompress for a while." He continued chopping in silence, considering something. Once upon a time, he wouldn't have given a second thought as to whether he should share something with JJ. But now….

JJ hadn't picked up on his hesitation, but she _had_ noticed his words. She was grateful for the opening to talk about Texas.

"Yeah, she seemed pretty shaken at the hospital. Not that we all weren't, but…. Obviously, it got to her, or she'd still be with us."

Considering his hesitation of a moment ago, Reid was surprised when it seemed to just come out of its own accord.

"It wasn't about me."

JJ had pulled out her own cutting board, and was now peeling and dicing potatoes.

"It wasn't? I thought she was upset that you got shot pushing her out of the way." She peeled another strip before adding, "Which, by the way, was incredibly heroic of you, Spence….in case I haven't already told you that." She smiled at him.

He returned a shy smile. She _had_ told him, multiple times. Initially, because it was a truly heartfelt sentiment. Afterwards, because he looked so cute when he blushed.

"It wasn't about me at all. It was about Ethan."

Now JJ was intrigued. She put down her peeler and stared. "Ethan? Who's Ethan? Spill."

So he told her, and watched her eyes fill as she learned that Alex Blake had been, once upon a time, a mother. That they'd had more in common than she'd known.

"Spence…that's so sad. And so poignant, that she had you to remind her of him." She picked up her peeler again. "I can't even imagine…"

"Don't go there. You don't have to imagine it. Henry's fine, and he's going to stay that way." Despite his best intentions, Reid couldn't resist adding, "Just make sure you do, too."

She smiled at him again. "I will. But you're going to have to stop worrying about me in the field, Spence. It's part of my job, just like it's part of yours."

He chopped harder. "I know it is. But I can't help worrying. I mean, what would happen to Henry if anything happened to you?" _What would happen to me?_

She saw her opportunity. JJ put down her peeler and her potato, and reached across the counter to still Reid's chopping hand.

"I could ask you the same question, Spence."

"What do you mean?" Sounding genuinely confused.

"I mean….you took an awful chance in Texas. I know it was for a good reason….it was for Alex. I'm not saying you were wrong. But you took a chance again in that shop the other day. You made sure you stood out in the crowd, so he would see you as a target before hurting anyone else."

He didn't try to deny it. "I knew you were armed. I knew, if he went after me, that you could take him down before he hurt anyone else."

It all sounded so logical. Except it wasn't.

"But that plan risked him killing you, Spence! At the very least, he could have hurt you badly. And yet, you didn't give it a second thought."

She could swear he was starting to squirm, and knew she'd hit a nerve. Now she just had to expose it.

"I…..I couldn't let you be hurt, JJ. Nor anyone else there. It just made sense that it was me."

JJ closed her eyes and shook her head, in a show of disbelief. "I don't think that's what it was about at all, Spence."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you didn't care if you got hurt. I think you didn't even care if he killed you! And, let's be honest here, all right? Darren was just spooked enough that he might have done it, even if he didn't mean to."

That he didn't come right back at her with a genius-inspired retort spoke volumes. He'd completely broken eye contact, and was staring at his cutting board.

"Spence…" She put her hand on his arm.

He spun away from her. "Don't, JJ."

"Don't what? Touch you? Tell you the truth? Ask you to tell it to me?"

When he still didn't respond, she started to plead. "Spence…..look, I know you have reason not to trust me. Believe me, I've spent entire sleepless nights over that. But….I hope you still _care_ about me. No, scratch that. I _know_ you do. Or you wouldn't be so set on me holding back in the field, right? It's not all about Henry….it's because you still care about me."

He raised his eyes to her, just briefly, in confirmation. "Of course I do."

"Well, then, please…. _please_ be honest with me. I'm worried about you. I'm _scared_ for you. You take chances like you don't care what happens to you. And like you don't think anyone else cares, either. But you're wrong about that, Spence. You're so wrong."

A long silence ensued, during which Reid waged an internal battle. She was right, of course. But he hadn't wanted her to know. He hadn't wanted _anyone_ to know. And, yet, there was a part of him that still wanted to be saved. It took charge of him in the moment. He started speaking, still not fully facing her, still trying to fight the part of him that was about to speak.

"Sometimes…." He broke off, finding it hard to keep his voice steady. In truth, he still didn't want to say the words aloud. Didn't want anyone to know he'd been feeling this way. Not even his best friend. Maybe _especially_ not his best friend. Despite the space between them, Reid still thought of her that way. He didn't have any better friends.

"Sometimes…..what?" She might not have been able to get him to sustain eye contact with her, but she knew how to stay connected. JJ reached up and brushed his hair away from his face.

He felt it. The caring, the concern. The genuine interest. Most of him wanted to respond. But he feared what else he might feel coming from her. The sympathy that was all too much like pity.

She sensed a shift in him, and kept at him. He'd been holding back for far too long, and it wasn't good for him, she reasoned. Better to break down whatever false wall he'd erected. He'd let his teammates beyond it just that once, when he'd let them help him put his self-ransacked apartment back together…and he'd made sure there were three of them there at the same time. Any one of them, alone, might have been able to slip through the cracks and penetrate more deeply. But three at once ensured they would each have to keep their distance.

After that, he'd sealed the space entirely. No more discussion of Maeve, no publicly sad faces, no cause for pity. She was safely sealed behind his wall with him. His elder profilers, Hotch and Rossi, were too experienced, too sage, not to notice. But they were also too well acquainted with loss. They would be patient with him and, sometimes, offer their wisdom, without expectation of response.

Not so the woman across from him, whose fingers had just wisped across his forehead. She _did_ have expectations, and they hadn't been met, for a very long time now. Her anticipation was almost palpable.

"Spence….sometimes…what?"

"Sometimes… I wish I'd died. When we were in Texas. I wish I'd never woken up."

Her hand dropped immediately. She'd expected it...and yet, not. Hearing him say it came across as a blow. Despite her suspicions, she'd still hoped to hear him say only that he still missed Maeve sometimes, or that he wished they'd had more time together. Maybe even that he wondered what it would have been like if Maeve hadn't died. But this….

"You don't mean that…..do you?"

His eyes flashed briefly to hers, to see if the tone of shock in her voice had reached her face. It was there...shock, tempered with sorrow.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

But he had said it. And she had, most definitely, heard it. JJ became resolved. She couldn't have one of the people she cared about most in the world feeling like this. He'd suffered a loss. Neither of them could change that. But she couldn't let the end of Maeve's life become the end of Reid's as well.

_That does it. Maybe you can't have Maeve, but that doesn't mean you have to be alone._

And yet, she knew he didn't have it in him. He'd chanced a relationship that one time, and become deeply wounded in the process. She was sure he wouldn't be planning to chance it again. So, really, she didn't see that she had any choice.

_I'm finding someone for you._


	6. Chapter 6

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 6**

'Finding someone' for Reid was a much easier task declared than done. Even in her youth, JJ hadn't exactly traveled with the matchmaking set. So she decided to consult with an expert. Penelope Garcia.

"He's just so sad, Pen. I think it would help him so much if he wasn't alone."

Garcia, despite the business she was in, still managed to believe that glasses came in only one color…..rose.

"But…I thought he was better! I thought the baskets….you know, the nuts, the seeds….I thought they'd helped." Sad to hear that her efforts might have been made in vain.

JJ realized she'd just distressed yet another of her good friends, and tried to mitigate the situation. "They did help, Pen. He wasn't even talking to us before that, remember? You remember the day he wouldn't even come to the door for us?"

Garcia remembered. "He just knocked, to show us he was alive. But, after that…"

JJ was glad to see Garcia brightening. "After that, he started to get better. Didn't he even tell you that the baskets helped?"

"Yes, but…aww, Jayje…you think he's still hurting about it?"

Reid had apparently put a good enough face on things that Garcia was genuinely surprised at what she was hearing from her best girlfriend.

JJ nodded. "I know it. He's functional, so maybe it made us think he was better. But…..he's just so, so sad. So lonely."

"He told you this?"

JJ was circumspect. "I can't tell you anything he told me in confidence, Pen. I'm sorry, but I can't. But this isn't something I needed him to tell me. I could see it. I knew. I think I've known all along. But I've been preoccupied, and he seemed to be doing his job, so…"

"So you talked yourself out of worrying about him. I know, I've been there."

JJ gave a regretful shrug. "Guilty."

Garcia tapped into her love for both of the team's two youngest profilers. "All right, never mind about that. You think we should find somebody for him? We should hook him up?" Grinning at the idea of Reid in a romantic entanglement. A more _traditional_ romantic entanglement.

JJ pulled back just a bit. "Well, I don't know about hooking him up….but I think he'd feel better if he had someone to come home to. We can't exactly give him a family, but maybe we can find him a girlfriend." _Or a puppy. Maybe we should just get him a puppy._ JJ started to rethink the whole idea.

Too late. Garcia rubbed her hands together, gleefully agreeing to the original task. "Okay, so…..how do you want to do this?"

JJ threw up her hands. "Pen, if I knew how to accomplish it, I wouldn't have brought it to you. I haven't the slightest. I was thinking maybe we could put our heads together and think about whether there's anyone we know…."

"Girlfriend!" Garcia dismissed her with a wave as she swirled her chair around to face her keyboard. "That's not how it's done these days. Why limit the romance pool when you can reach a whole world?"

When Garcia started pounding at her keyboard, JJ grew concerned. "Are you saying we should find someone for him on line? How…..who…?"

Garcia was happily tapping keys. "There's a site I ran across. 'Datemybestfriend-dot-com'. He doesn't even have to know."

"How can he not know?" JJ was becoming more and more uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

Garcia was so enthused about it that she didn't even notice JJ's discomfort. "It's not like some of these other 'best friend' sites. For most of them, the best friend writes the profile, but the guy….or the girl….the one who's trying to find a date….they know about it, and they okay it. _They're_ the ones the prospective dates contact."

"Well, that just makes sense, doesn't it?"

"It does, but…..can you see Reid agreeing to putting his profile on a dating site?" Garcia giggled at the image.

JJ was less amused. "I guess not, but…..I don't think he'd be all that happy about _us_ putting his name in without his knowledge, either."

"That's the beauty of this site, Jayje! He doesn't have to know! The site sends us some candidates, and we correspond with them. Then, we can set them up on….well, I guess you'd call it a 'serendipitous encounter'. "

JJ took it in for a moment before reacting. "We'd set him up on some sort of prearranged meeting? One that he didn't know about?"

Not at all able to picture how she would get him to go along with such a thing, then actively cringing at the idea of how he would react if he ever found out.

Garcia wasn't the least bit intimidated. "Exactly! He wouldn't have to know at all. It would be a sort of 'blind date' without the 'date'."

* * *

In the end, she'd gotten Garcia to agree to wait. Despite the sincerity of their talk before dinner last night, JJ knew she and Spence hadn't broken down all of what was between them, and she wasn't ready to risk adding to it. It wasn't exactly anger she sensed from him. More like resignation. She was who she was, and he'd had to learn to accept her. That's what it felt like. Except that she _hadn't_ been herself…..not the 'self' she wanted to be.

_It was just circumstance…..wasn't it?_

It was true, she'd kept things from him again, this past year, despite his efforts to draw her out. But, really, she hadn't told anyone. Not even Will. Not even Hotch. None of them had a high enough security clearance to hear about it anyway.

That's what she'd told herself about Spence. It was how she'd rationalized keeping things from him once again. _He's not allowed to know. So._

But that wasn't entirely accurate. He'd never asked about what her assignment had been, nor wanted to hear a recounting of the actual events. He'd simply asked about her. _"Are you all right? If you weren't you'd tell me, wouldn't you?"_ He'd asked her before, and he'd asked her again after, using the very same words. He didn't need a security clearance to know about that. And yet, she hadn't told him. Time after time, she'd shrugged him off.

When he'd first seen her after the kidnapping, he'd not asked what she'd been through. He'd only put his arms around her and clasped her to him. Even when she'd started to pull away, to see about Cruz, Reid had tightened the embrace one more time, uncharacteristically lacking the proper words to express himself. He'd let his arms do the talking that time.

She hadn't seen him again until the following evening, when the whole team had gotten together for one more gathering with Emily before her return to London. He hadn't pushed her at all then, not in the presence of their friends. He'd kept it as light as she had, making small talk and telling stories that would shape themselves into memories for their good friend to take back with her to Interpol. But JJ had felt the surreptitious glances, and caught the occasional furrowed brow.

She hadn't strayed far from Will that evening, feeling comfort in his proximity. But that comfort had been tempered by guilt. She'd declared an end to secrecy, but she hadn't actually abided by it. Will had been so relieved to have his wife back, seemingly intact despite her ordeal, that he'd taken her at her word, no matter how superficial it was.

"I'm fine. Just some bruises and a taser burn. Really. It was Matt who got hurt. Emily got there just in time for me."

JJ couldn't tell whether Will had believed her, or whether he'd just avoided asking the other questions, not certain he could handle the answers. It was only JJ who understood that the answers were of no significance. After all, did it really matter that she hadn't been sexually assaulted? Hadn't the fear of it, the helplessness, the look of lust in Hastings' eyes, been traumatizing enough? But Will hadn't asked, and she hadn't offered.

For weeks afterward, JJ had avoided looking in the mirror, afraid she'd see the after- effects in her own image. If she didn't look, she could convince herself that she was showing her best face to her family and teammates. If she didn't look, maybe they wouldn't see.

The illogic of it hadn't escaped her. But she was very well practiced in denial, and had too often found it an effective tool. For as long as it was granted to her, she would keep it up.

If not for Spence, it would have been the perfect plan. But he'd cut right through everything superficial. After the first couple of times asking, ' _Are you all right?_ ', he'd known enough to stop. He could see that she wasn't. So he'd just pushed her, gently, penetrating her defenses by forcing her to lie, or tell the truth. ' _If you weren't all right, you'd tell me, wouldn't you?'_

The fact that she'd been able to look him in the eye and say 'yes' troubled JJ. She'd become so practiced at lying that she could do it with sincerity…..even when she could tell he didn't believe her. That was a large part of what had been keeping the wedge between them. That he knew, and she knew that he did…..and she wouldn't let him help her.

_That's the difference between us, I guess. Isn't it ironic? That I'm supposed to be so open, and empathetic…..the perfect liaison, right? And he's supposed to be the closed-off genius, who has so much trouble relating to people. But, when it came to his trauma….true, he pushed us away for a while-who wouldn't?...but then he let us in. He let us help him. He even apologized for not doing it sooner. And what do I do? I just keep pretending there's nothing that needs help. Nothing wrong. Nope. Not with me._

JJ was always careful not to complete this thought process unless she was alone, because it always, inevitably, led to a breakdown. Since she was virtually never alone at the BAU, nor at home, she'd found a favorite spot to pull over on her way home from work, a small park with a pond. She'd pull into the parking lot, away from where the teens were making out, and let down. And then she would quickly repair her makeup, taking care not to actually look into her own eyes. Just the lids, and the brows, and the cheeks, and the lips, each in succession, but never all together. She'd grown afraid of her own facial expressions in those times.

This afternoon, after reapplying her lipstick, she inhaled and exhaled a long, deep breath. Holding her palm out in front of her, she was satisfied to see that it was no longer trembling.

_Don't think about it again, all right? Think about what you're going to make for dinner. Think about taking Henry to soccer on Saturday. Think about how you're going to help Spence. Think about_ anything _….anything but that._

* * *

"Our boy is growing up, Cher. Can you believe he'll be riding the school bus next week?"

They were settled on the sofa, but neither was really paying attention to the television. Both of them chuckled at the memory of Henry's modeling his backpack and lunch box for them after dinner.

"He is. I guess I'm glad he's so excited about going to school."

"Yeah, well. That was never me. Took me away from hunting and fishing with Pa."

This was news to JJ. "Your dad took you hunting…at six?"

Will stretched, landing his arm around his wife's shoulders and pulling her closer. "Cher, I'm from Louisiana, remember? Back in the bayou, hunting is a way of life. I learned to shoot a rifle at 5 years old. All my friends did."

JJ shivered at the thought. "They hunted in Pennsylvania, too, but I never heard of anyone doing it so young. Will, seriously, I don't want Henry near any guns…not until he's old enough to own one himself." She righted herself so she could see her husband's face better. "You promised, remember?" She hadn't realized, at the time of that conversation, that it might come up again so soon.

He smiled. "Relax, JJ. I was only talking about my own childhood. Life is different here."

She heard the wistfulness that always seemed to infuse Will's voice when he reminisced about 'home'. Although she'd never asked him to, he'd given up his life in New Orleans when she'd become pregnant with Henry, but he still considered it 'home'. More than once, JJ had gotten the impression that Will looked upon his life in DC as a temporary thing. It always left her with a sense of unease, but she'd not chosen to challenge it.

Will was still speaking. "Anyway, you're right. It's good he's excited about learning. I think he gets that from his mama." He pinched her chin as he said it.

She smiled, as though in agreement. But she knew Henry's discovery that learning could be fun….even exciting…..had come from a different source. 

_I told you I'd need you to get him into Yale…I just didn't know you'd start on it so early!_

"Little Man loves that backpack, too, doesn't he?" Will sighed at this one. He'd been trying to steer Henry toward camouflage, but it was Batman who'd actually caught the youngster's eye.

"Not quite as much as he loves his lunch box. Partly because it's Star Wars, but also because it was Spence's."

Will rolled his eyes. "What grown man still owns the lunchbox he had as a kid? Something weird about that, JJ….you have to admit it."

She wasn't about to tell him what Spence had told her….that the lunch box had been one of the few of his belongings to survive his childhood. He'd told her the whole story of the lunch box on the day he'd brought it over for Henry.

As a boy, he'd been so inspired by young Luke Skywalker's valiant struggle against an overpowering, evil entity, that young Spencer Reid had set his heart on bringing Luke to school with him. He'd collected and redeemed cans and bottles until he had enough money for the lunch box, and then he'd carried it with him every day. It hadn't been enough to save him, but he'd treasured it anyway. It had reminded him, every day, that good triumphed over evil. One just had to be patient.

"Spence, are you sure? It's from your childhood. What if you want to give it…." Cutting herself off, having run into that most tender area again. Once she'd become aware of it, it seemed to come up all the time.

"I want Henry to have it. He loves Star Wars, doesn't he? And, I'd just like…..well, I just want him to have it." He thought a moment more, and realized something. "Oh, that is, if he wants it. Maybe it's too old-fashioned."

She'd smiled. "He won't care. He'll just be thrilled that it came from you…..and that it has Luke Skywalker on it."

And he had been. "Really, Uncle Spence? When you were a little boy?"

"Yep, Henry. I took it to school with me every day. Luke helped me remember what a boy can do when he's willing to study hard. Do you think you can do that?"

"You bet, Uncle Spence! Thanks!"

JJ emerged from her memory to the sensation of Will rocking her against him.

"What do you say, Cher? I know you wanted to take a break, but it's been a couple of years now. And Henry's getting so big. We don't want to wait too long, right? Shouldn't we try again?"

She hoped he didn't notice when she began the deep breathing designed to slow her racing heart. Three years after the fact, it was still her body's immediate response to any reference to the miscarriage, even when that reference was inadvertent. Will still didn't know. He knew only that he'd wanted to try, and she'd agreed. He'd thought her leaving the BAU had provided them the best opportunity to expand their family. And he'd hoped that expansion might bring her a step closer to marrying him.

JJ hadn't specifically agreed to it, she just hadn't actively disagreed. She'd been too distracted by what was being asked of her in her new job. Too distracted to realize she'd left her birth control back in the States. Too distracted to remember that fact when she'd rotated home for a few months.

When she'd returned to Afghanistan and begun to experience those familiar symptoms, she'd been sure. The test had been a mere formality. What she hadn't been sure about was how she felt about it.

She'd become expert at keeping herself busy enough not to dwell on the obvious fact that she'd been with Will for over four years, and was still not driven to commit to him. Not against it….right? Just not driven. Having a second child together would put more pressure on their relationship, making it difficult for her to continue to leave its status in limbo.

Regardless of what it meant for them as a family, JJ had already been able to feel the tug of attachment between mother and child. She'd felt it almost immediately with Henry, as well. It was the thing that had made any 'decision-making' moot. It had done so with Henry, and it had done so with the newly-conceived child.

That she'd both gained and lost that unborn child in a matter of only a few days had done nothing to lessen the impact of the experience. But she'd been in a war zone. Other lives had been in the balance, and weakness hadn't been an option. She'd given in to her grief for only a few moments, and then buried it, putting on the façade of the strong female operative. She'd left it buried after her return home. She hadn't told Will the first time he'd asked about her time in the Middle East. Nor the second, nor the third. After that, it had been easier to rationalize keeping up the lie. The loss had been hers, after all, not his. He hadn't even known about the child. He'd not experienced the attachment, and didn't need to experience the separation _. I'm protecting him. Right?_

The turmoil of nearly losing Emily, and the anguish of keeping the 'nearly' from Spence, had been enough to distract her in the months that followed. Reid might have been able to see it in her, had his eyes not been so blurred by tears much of that time. Afterward, they were inflamed by his anger. Once it subsided, once they'd found a way to be important to one another again, she'd wondered if he would see. If he would push her. But then Maeve had become the center of his vision, even though he'd never _actually_ seen her. And her loss had shrouded his eyes for a long while afterward.

Her own kidnapping, captivity and torture had brought it all back for the newly-minted profiler. None of the rest, not her team nor her family, knew everything that had transpired in that 24 hour period. And only JJ could know what other heartache it had resurrected. The pain had been buried once, but it refused to stay buried now. The rational part of her knew it required release, but the irrational part refused to acknowledge the need as anything but weakness.

For months now, she'd walked a tightrope, balancing work and home, motherhood and marriage, the need to conceal, with the pain of concealment, all without benefit of a balancing rod. For her, that role had always been played by Spence. But she'd turned him away each time he'd asked. ' _Are you all right_?'

And now he wasn't asking any more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 7**

He'd managed to avoid her most of the day. For some reason, she'd been holed up with Garcia for much of the morning, and then they'd all been tied up with paperwork most of the afternoon. There was more to go around, now that Blake was gone. Hotch had told them he was actively interviewing for the empty position but, so far, he hadn't found the right candidate.

No matter to Reid, for whom paperwork was merely a necessary annoyance. It was in and out of his hands quickly, whether he was reading or preparing a report. Despite his preference for the written word, he had nimble fingers and was adept at the keyboard. This afternoon, he'd been grateful for the distraction of it. He was still feeling awkward about last night's conversation with JJ. He'd not planned to admit how he'd been feeling to anyone, least of all to the person best positioned to see through him. Now he knew he would be under added scrutiny.

_Not that she needs it, apparently. I thought I'd been putting on a pretty good show, only to find out I was completely transparent to her._

She'd caught him off guard last night, and he'd realized only after the fact that she must have planned it. That she'd gotten him there early under the guise of playing with Henry, only to announce that Henry wasn't expected for another hour. And she'd used that hour to penetrate his defenses.

They were always the most porous with her. It was inevitable that she'd get through them one day. But they weren't entirely without reinforcement, either. JJ might have gotten him to admit his detachment, but she hadn't reached that inner sanctum. The one he still shared with Maeve.

He'd been embarrassed to be found out, and especially so when he'd seen how much it shocked her. He'd been quick to play down the extent of his longing, and just as quick to reassure her that it was a passing thing. "I know I said I wished I hadn't woken up in Texas. But that was _then_. That's what I meant to say. Now, I feel much better. _Much_ better."

He could tell from the look on her face that she would have called him out, if they hadn't both heard the car door slam just then. Within seconds, Henry was in the house and excitedly telling Reid about the event at his school.

"And they said, if enough kids want it, we can have Boy Scouts! Did you used to be a Boy Scout, Uncle Spence?"

He had been, oddly enough. All the way to Eagle Scout, the youngest ever in his troop. It was something his father had gotten him started in, and Reid had found it something of a haven. There were no bullies in the Boy Scouts. And learning survival skills was right up his alley. He'd just had to forge the parental permission slips for camp outs, but that had been a minor, easily surmountable, obstacle.

"I loved being a Boy Scout, Henry. You'll love it too."

"Maybe you can do it with us, Uncle Spence. With me and Daddy."

"Oh, come on now, Buddy, you know your Uncle Spence doesn't have time for that." Will's eyes met Reid's as he said it.

Reid received the unspoken message. But he didn't want Henry to get the wrong impression. "No, it's not that I don't have time for you, Henry. It's just that…well, scouting is something that fathers do with sons."

"Oh. Did you do it with your daddy, Uncle Spence?"

JJ stepped in before Reid could answer. "It's time to wash hands, Little Man. Dinner will be on the table in two minutes."

* * *

There'd been no time alone after that, and their conversation of earlier had gone unfinished. As far as Reid was concerned, it could remain unfinished forever. But he also knew he couldn't avoid JJ forever. Nor would he want to. It was just that…..if he could avoid her for a little while, maybe they'd get busy, and she would forget about it. 

_Right._

The afternoon's paperwork would normally have driven JJ to her usual distractions…getting coffee, visiting with her colleagues. She nearly always found a reason to perch herself on the edge of Reid's desk and chat about one thing or another. The only real interruption to the routine had come when they'd been estranged, after Emily. And it turned out to be her inadvertent resumption of the routine that aided their reconciliation. It was part of how she'd worn him down. Part of how she'd gotten him to forgive her for not being honest about the feigned death of their good friend.

He'd missed those little breaks from work as much as she had. So, one day, when she'd been completed distracted by something else, she'd forgotten their distance. She'd come by with her afternoon mug of java and sat herself down. As soon as she'd done so, Reid had looked up from his file and both of them had startled. They'd stared at one another for a second, and then JJ had offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Old habits, I guess."

"It's all right. I was due for a break."

She'd grinned, grateful for his indulgence. "Did you know Morgan renovates properties?" Virtually lunging at the only really interesting piece of news among their colleagues. Something to help her break the ice.

He nodded. "He told me about it. He said it felt good to pound things and make money at the same time. I think he really likes the demolition part."

She laughed. "It must be therapeutic."

"Yeah, that's what he said. So, when he invited me a few weeks ago…..I joined him."

She missed the meaning in what he'd said….at first. " _You_ were demolishing a property?"

His gaze back at her was steady. "It felt good to hit something."

_Then_ she got it. "Spence…..I can't tell you enough how sorry I am. How much I wish I could go back and change things." He heard her add, under her breath, ' _Dear God, if only I could_.'

To a greater degree than most, Spencer Reid was a complex human mixture of emotion and thought. For the most part, and certainly in JJ's presence, he'd reacted with pure emotion, both to the announcement of Emily's death and then to the announcement of her resurrection. But, when left on his own, his emotional self conducted many an exchange with his logical self.

_It's done now. They can't change what they did. Even if it was wrong. Even if you don't agree with their reasons. You can see that they're sorry they hurt you, can't you? What would you have them do, beyond apologizing? Should they go back in time to change the present?_

His emotional self responded. _No, but they can promise never to do it again. Except how do I know they'll keep that promise? What if they come up with another circumstance that they think 'gives them no choice'? What happens then?_

The 'they' in his arguments always came down to one person. Hotch and Emily may have known about it, but….well, Emily had been hurt, out of commission, unable to participate in the decision to collude. And Hotch was….he was… _Hotch_. But JJ had always borne the title of 'best friend'. It was JJ's part in the deception that had caused the most pain. Not just because of what he'd gone through when he'd thought Emily was dead. But because he'd learned not to trust the one person in the world he thought he could. Logic always had trouble overcoming that.

He hadn't quite relented that afternoon in the BAU. He'd made his point, launched his barb and watched it hit home. But when JJ kept coming back, one afternoon at a time, and kept opening herself up for target practice, he'd had to reconsider.

_Stop it. This isn't who you are. Maybe she found herself being someone she wasn't, as well. Maybe it happened to both of you. Let it go before you can't find your way back at all._

And, just like that, he'd stopped. His guard had refused to come all the way down. He'd had too many reasons to need it for self-preservation in the past. It wasn't about to fail him just because his maturity wanted it to. But he'd opened himself more, refrained from bringing up 'the deception', even tangentially. He'd even taken to visiting her desk now and then. And it had all felt really, really good.

He'd felt even better after he'd come upon Maeve. _Maybe there is blessing in every problem, like they say_. His unrelenting headaches, made so much worse with the loss of Emily and, essentially, of JJ, had led him into the circle of Maeve Donovan. And his life had undergone a dramatic change.

Here was another woman who was expert at catching him off guard. First, with her disarmingly sweet voice and dry wit, and, much later, with those two words. ' _Love you'_. Those words that had haunted him, at first, because he hadn't returned them right away. And then because he could _never_ return them. But now, most days, they sustained him. For just a brief moment of his life, there had been someone who'd known him only for who he was…..not for what he looked like, or what he could do. And she'd treasured the person of Spencer Reid.

It was affirming. Energizing. Validating. He'd spent his lifetime becoming the person Maeve Donovan had met, and she'd approved.

And then, so quickly and unexpectedly….she was gone. He'd tried to hold on to the self-affirmation. He'd thought she would have wanted that. But the overwhelming grief and loss had consumed it.

When JJ had reached out to him, he'd reached back, knowing on some instinctual level that, if he was to be able to find himself again at all, it would have to be through her. He'd shared too much of himself, placed a virtual repository of 'Spencer Reid' into their friendship. But, although she was reaching out to him, there was something else that was already in her grasp….something secret, something she wouldn't or couldn't tell him. _Something_ _else_. _Again._ And they'd been unable to hold on.

As this afternoon wore on, Reid's peripheral vision caught JJ beginning to fidget, and he began to squirm internally. It was always her 'tell', the preliminary to the coffee run. If things held true to form, she'd be at his desk in a few minutes, and might very well want to revisit their conversation of the night before. He began to consider his options for escape when, suddenly, they weren't necessary. Providence sent a distraction.

The bullpen's eyes were drawn to the mezzanine when Hotch's door opened to the sound of a woman's laughter. _Laughter._ From Aaron Hotchner's office. Seconds later, a petite female form emerged, smiling and shaking the unit chief's hand. Then she turned and went down the far stairway, headed for the lobby. And Hotch's door closed once again.

JJ's fidgeting ceased immediately, overcome by her curiosity. She turned and made eye contact with Reid, who shrugged. In just those few seconds, Garcia was already out of her lair and in the space between their desks, her eyes wide.

"That's the second time she's been here! Don't you remember? She came that morning about two weeks ago, right before that guy with the crew cut, and the other one with the strong cologne. Remember? No one else has come back for a second interview. That has to mean something!"

Garcia was the self-appointed guardian of the integrity of her team. She'd been keeping tight tabs on all comings and goings from their unit chief's office, on the lookout for their potential new team member.

"I sort of remember her," agreed JJ. She turned to Reid for confirmation. By now, they'd all moved over to his desk.

His eyes narrowed as though looking at something out of focus. "Her face is familiar, like I've seen it before….not just here…..but I can't think where. I don't even know if I'm just remembering her picture from something or if I've actually met her."

Garcia made a face at him. "What good is having an eidetic memory if you can't remember things?"

JJ laughed, already knowing the answer, from having asked it many times before. Reid explained to their technical analyst.

"Not everything imprints. It will if I want it to, like if I'm reading, or looking for something. But, sometimes, if I'm distracted…."

"Why would you be distracted ….." Garcia cut herself off, a look of discovery on her face. "You think she's attractive, don't you? That's why you remember her face, even if you might only have seen her picture."

"What? No! I never said that," he protested. But he also blushed, satisfying Garcia that she'd been right.

Something about the whole situation...or, maybe, Spence's reaction to it... made JJ feel unsettled. "So…are we thinking she's our new team member? Do you think Hotch offered her the position?"

Reid's eyes were drawn back upstairs as Hotch's door opened and the unit chief motioned them toward the round table room.

"I don't know. But I think we're about to find out."


	8. Chapter 8

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 8**

Reid, JJ and Garcia made their way upstairs to join Hotch and Morgan in the team's conference room. Hotch waited a few extra minutes for Rossi, who stood outside the room completing what appeared to be an urgent phone call. Once he was finished, he nodded an apology at the others and took his seat as well.

Hotch looked around the table at his team. They were the five people he trusted most in the world. The people he entrusted with his life, and who he expected would entrust each other as well. That trust had been tested just a few months ago, when Reid had been shot protecting Alex, and then when Penelope Garcia….. _peaceable_ Penelope Garcia …..had shot someone who was about to kill Reid in his hospital bed. Those kinds of experiences, and the countless others they'd shared, had cemented a bond among these individuals. Bringing someone else into the mix was not something one did lightly.

After making eye contact with each of them in succession, Hotch spoke.

"As you know, we've been short staffed since Alex left us after the case in Texas."

Reid's hand obeyed a subconscious command to protect the hollow of his neck, just above his right clavicle. It had become a reflex response whenever Texas was mentioned. No wonder. He could still see and feel the scar tissue. The external scar tissue.

Hotch was still speaking. "About a month ago, the Bureau finally approved the position for hiring, and I was able to start interviewing candidates. Today, I offered the position to one candidate, and she has made a tentative acceptance."

"Tentative?" Morgan voiced it for all of them. BAU work wasn't something one did 'tentatively'. It required individuals who were dedicated and determined.

"She has a child care issue to address. She's been working undercover for the last few years, but even when she had to work out of town, it was never without warning. Our….work pattern, if you will…..isn't conducive to giving much notice for alternative child care situations."

JJ gave a soft snort. "You can say that again. Thank God for Karen." Even Henry's two-parent family couldn't assure his care from day to day without the good-heartedness of his long term sitter. The nature of both parents' jobs saw to that.

Garcia's natural inquisitiveness…..which is what she called it whenever Morgan told her she was being nosy….emerged.

"Is she married? How old is her child? Was that her we saw leaving your office just before?"

Hotch opened his mouth to reply, but any sound he made was drowned out by the alarm emitting from his phone...and those of all of the others, simultaneously.

Morgan was the first to look at his screen. "Terror threat level 'red'. What's this, like…..maybe the third time in the last couple of months?"

All government-issued phones alerted whenever the level went to 'red'.

Reid was still looking at his screen. "Third time in six weeks, actually. But the threats have all been overseas."

Rossi looked at Hotch, as though asking for permission, and continued when he received a subtle nod.

"I just got off the phone with a buddy of mine over at Homeland Security. Hotch…..do you want to explain?"

The unit chief ran his eyes over those seated at the table again.

"I had a call from the Director a few hours ago. I asked Rossi to tap into his sources at DHS before I brought the information to you. And…Dave?"

Rossi took it back. "It pans out. It's like they said, Aaron."

Hotch spent a second taking that in, then returned his gaze to the others. "All right, then. I had a call from the Director, who reported there's been a credible threat, against a major city in the United States. Homeland Security has asked for the BAU's input."

Brows went up all around the table, Garcia voicing the surprise of the team.

"DHS asked for us? They actually came to the FBI and asked for help?"

DHS may have had a short lifespan, but it had a strong, and not always positive, reputation. It was especially not known for 'playing well with others'.

Rossi understood her disbelief, but he had more information to share.

"It came from one of the assistant directors who was based in Afghanistan. It seems his staff had some experience working with a profiler over there, and thought they might be able to use our skill set again."

All eyes went to JJ, who immediately glued her gaze to the table. Reid's foot made its way to hers underneath, pressing his support.

Hotch took the reins again. "DHS will vet the team so they can provide appropriate security clearance. After that, we'll be working in a joint task force with DHS….. and several other agencies."

They could all guess that those 'several other agencies' had three letter acronyms as well. But the CIA and NSA rarely announced their participation in anything.

"Why us, Hotch? I mean, I can take a guess, but…..I'd like to hear it, officially. Why us?" Morgan wanted their mission defined.

Rossi answered for their unit chief. "We get into the minds of killers. They need to catch killers."

"You're saying you think it's that simple?" Morgan sounded as though he didn't agree.

JJ didn't agree either. "Morgan's right. Terrorism has a completely different dynamic."

Although she'd never shared the details with them….she'd never been permitted to do so…..they were all aware now that she'd spent time in Afghanistan. The fact of that experience gave her words credence. Each of them gave quiet consideration to what she'd said.

Reid broke the silence. "I don't know if it's really so different. They're both driven to act for a cause. For a terrorist, it's usually either a political or religious ideal they're trying to achieve. For a serial killer, it's the fulfillment of a fantasy, or the relief of a stressor. In both cases, there's a tendency to dehumanize the people they kill, to see them merely as a means to an end."

Hotch was on board with his genius. "Reid's right. The main difference is that the terrorist's measure of success is a communal one, while the serial killer is interested only in his personal satisfaction."

Rossi nodded his agreement, but had something to add. "There's another difference. The terrorist doesn't care about his own life, but only about the higher cause. That makes him unpredictable….and difficult to bargain with."

"And one more thing," added Reid. "They both often have a history of a vulnerable childhood or adolescence. But the serial killer is physically changed by that childhood. His neuronal network, and his brain chemistry, is changed. So far, we don't know that the same thing happens with the terrorist."

"So?" Garcia didn't quite follow.

"So," explained Hotch, "the terrorist can be turned. If we can figure out who they are, and what they're doing, we might be able to turn them."

* * *

"He never even told us her name, Jayje. Even I, the Great Garcia, have my limits. How am I going to snoop without even knowing who I'm snooping about?"

The women were wrapping up their workday together in Garcia's tech room. Hotch had ordered all of them to clear the remaining files from their desks by tomorrow afternoon, anticipating a long stint with DHS after that. Morgan and Rossi had gone back to their offices, and Reid had immediately buried his head into a file, leaving JJ no choice but to debrief with her best girlfriend.

Even with her experience in Afghanistan, she still felt thrown. They were talking about a threat on American soil, not in some strange desert land. It was true the threat was against the USA in general, and not specifically against DC, but…..it was bringing flashbacks of the anthrax case. That time when she'd been so torn about warning her own family against danger.

Hotch had told her, then, that it wasn't fair for the members of the BAU to use their privileged knowledge to protect the people they loved. His advice hadn't rung true to her then, and it didn't now. But she'd obeyed, and kept the secret. She didn't know, then, that it would only be the first of many times she would keep a secret from those she loved.

"If only those alarms had gone off five minutes later. Even _one_ minute later..." JJ may have come to discuss their new assignment, but there was no interrupting Penelope Garcia when she was in a snit.

"He's practically hired her, and we don't know anything about her. What if she's got some deep, dark secret that's making her leave her last job? What if someone's got a grudge against her?" A sudden gasp. "Ooo, Jayje….what if she has a stalker? What if there's another Replicator out there?!"

JJ sighed. _I guess we're not going to talk about terrorists_. Penelope needed calming down.

"Relax, Pen. She looked pretty harmless to me. And she can't have been around long enough to have a 'deep, dark history'. " JJ made finger quotes as she mocked the idea. "She doesn't look much older than me." _In fact, she might be younger._

Garcia sniffed. "Hmph. It doesn't take a long history to make a dangerous enemy. I'll just feel better when my babies and I can look into her." She stroked her keyboard lovingly, making JJ laugh.

"You and your babies…"

"Oh! Speaking of…. I looked at that site again. You know, for Baby Genius. There are a bunch of questions we need to answer, and then we need to write a little bio for him."

"Pen…." JJ had thought…..had _hoped_ …..that Garcia's idea had been a passing fancy.

"Here…..here, I downloaded the questions so we can work on them. All right…here we go!"

JJ looked around uncomfortably, as though expecting one of their teammates to walk in on them. Maybe even hoping they would. But...the proposed exercise was proving to be an effective distraction for Garcia…and they weren't actually answering the questions on line…..so, maybe, it would be okay. She could talk the would-be matchmaker out of submitting the information later on.

"Okay…what have you got?"

"Name. We should give him a pseudonym, don't you think? I mean, until I run some background on them."

"You're planning to run background checks on everyone who responds? What if _they_ use pseudonyms?"

"Already thought of that. I can trace them from their IP addresses."

"But how can you get their IP addresses unless…oh. You're planning to hack the site."

"Don't say it like that. Be glad I'm not hacking the site now. I'm trying to play by the rules….a little."

JJ laughed. "Okay. Okay, let's see….a pseudonym…..what about Cyrano?" Thinking about the famous lover who'd been represented by another.

"Cyran….what? No! They'll think he's ugly. And my dear, sweet boo is most definitely _not_ ugly."

_That, he isn't._ "Okay, point taken. All right, what about…..hmm…what about Arthur?"

"Arthur? As in King Arthur? I don't know, Jayje, didn't Guinevere mess around on him? What if…"

The blonde profiler rolled her eyes. "Pen….really? If you're worried about it, just don't match him with anyone named Guinevere. Or Lancelot." Getting a giggle from Garcia. "Actually, I was thinking about Arthur Conan Doyle. He's one of Spence's favorite authors."

"Oh, yeah! That makes sense….all right, 'Arthur' it is. Next item….height."

"I think he's about six feet, or maybe six-one. I know I come up to the bottom of his ear."

"Okay, I'll take your word for it. Next is….hah! Next is 'weight'. Should I just type in 'not enough'?"

JJ chuckled. "I'm working on that. He's coming over for dinner Friday night, so Henry can fill him in on his first week of school. You're still invited, you know."

"Oh, Jayje, I know….thanks! I feel so bad about it, but Sam bought the tickets months ago. From now on, I'm putting Henry's full academic calendar into my phone, so I won't miss any more godmotherly occasions."

"Not to worry. Henry will still have plenty to tell next week, I'm sure. Hmm….maybe I'll invite Spence back again then. Maybe you should leave 'weight' open."

"Good idea. All right. Next is…..'eyes'." She started typing into her document. "Brown, right?"

"More of a hazel. They get dark when he's angry, and sometimes when he's thinking really hard. But they lighten up when he's happy. And when he wears blue, or gray. They definitely lighten up when he wears blue or gray."

Garcia was glad JJ couldn't see the look on her face as she typed away, amused at how much detail her friend could put into a description of Reid's eyes.

"I'll just put…'it depends', all right?"

Before JJ could respond, they were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door, followed immediately by the head of Derek Morgan.

"Hey, Baby Girl…you ready? I can drop you off, but then I have to get over to that condo property. The inspector's doing me a favor coming over after work."

When he came further into the room, he realized his Baby Girl wasn't alone.

"Oh, hey, Blondie. I thought you'd left already."

"Why, what time…" JJ looked at her watch as she spoke. "Oh, wow….I didn't realize it was so late. We were talking and I lost track of the time. Ugh! I'd wanted to get through some of my stack this afternoon. Guess I'll just have to come in early tomorrow."

"I don't think you'll have to worry about that. Somebody's got you covered." Morgan used his chin to point toward the window.

JJ moved over to look into the bullpen. There were only a couple of files left on her desk.

"Spence?"

Morgan grinned. "Nice to have genius friends, isn't it?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 9**

"Hotch offered the position."

JJ sank back into the sofa after getting Henry to bed. He went down more easily now that he'd reached the ripe old age of six. 

_School's wearing my boy out. But he loves it, thank God._

"Who'd you get?"

"Well, we know _what_ ….but we don't exactly know who. It's a woman, maybe my age or a little younger. And Hotch says she has a child."

"Younger than you? What, is she like Spencer?"

"That's really all I know about her. She came out of Hotch's office, and left the building. Then he called a team meeting, but we got distracted by something before he could say much about her."

"Not even her name? Must have been a pretty distracting 'something."

Thinking back to what had gotten the team off track, JJ realized the possibility of it interfering in her marriage, even after she'd promised Will there would be no more secrets. Which, of itself, had been less than honest on her part. In her mind, she'd emphasized the 'more' in 'no _more_ secrets', because she still hadn't revealed to him all that had come before.

Now the team was being vetted to give permission for them to know about an ongoing investigation into terrorism. It was hardly likely that said permission would extend to a DC detective sergeant, even if he was the spouse of one of the BAU team. Which made it very likely that JJ would be keeping things from her husband once again.

She hosted a rapid-fire internal debate about whether to tell him about it before being instructed not to. 

_About it. Not the details._ _Maybe if I just tell him that there's something I can't tell him. Maybe he'll understand. Maybe…._

Their marriage hadn't exactly been built on a rock-solid foundation. After all, she'd declined Will's proposals since before Henry was born. It had taken the shaking of whatever foundation there was for her to decide it was good enough to build on. Even then, she hadn't been sure 'good enough' was….well, good enough. But she'd been frightened, and then relieved, and emotional…..and then surprised, when Will and Rossi…. and her mother…. conspired to make the wedding a reality. And then, all of a sudden, she'd been married. Ever since, she'd been trying to find her way in this new landscape. The things she'd had to keep from Will….and the things she'd _chosen_ to keep from him….. loomed as boulders on the horizon.

JJ decided she'd have to tell him _something_.

"Well….yes. It _was_ pretty distracting. It seems we're being asked to consult with a few other agencies on something related to homeland security."

Will was familiar with the code. Every civil service worker in DC was.

"Terrorism?"

She nodded. "I don't know any details….and, Will, I don't know that I'll be allowed to tell you anything that I _do_ know….but I guess they want us to get into the minds of the terrorists."

"Cher….you're not gonna be hunting these guys are you? Because…."

He had to cut himself off before he got too worked up. Less than a year ago, he'd almost lost her because of her work with terror. Well, technically, her work was with the war effort. But the war effort was tied, completely, to terrorism. Her job had almost cost them their family. He would have reminded her of that, had he not also remembered what had happened even earlier. Two years ago, _she'd_ almost lost _him_ ….and Henry!...to events put into motion by _his_ job, and followed through by hers.

They'd both chosen dangerous careers, had even been brought together through those careers. But they had a son now, and Will was of the mind that one of them needed to walk away from the danger, to be there for Henry. In many ways, JJ agreed with him. What the couple disagreed on was _who_ should walk away from the danger.

Not wanting to engage in that particular argument yet again, JJ reassured her husband.

"I think they just want us to get into their heads, Will. For all I know, I'll be working out of the bullpen for the next month."

Hoping not. JJ wasn't anxious to put herself in danger, but if she'd wanted an office job, she wouldn't have stayed with the FBI.

Will felt differently. "That suits me just fine." He slid closer to her on the sofa. "So, Henry's down, neither one of us is likely to be called in right now…are you thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?"

She smiled. "Some Mommy and Daddy alone time?"

He was already tugging her towards the bedroom. "More than that, Cher. I was thinkin' we should make somebody else to call us Mama and Daddy."

* * *

The BAU was never completely quiet. There was nearly always someone working on something….a breaking case, an overload of time-sensitive paperwork, even a cleaning crew. Still, Aaron Hotchner always enjoyed the relative calm of an early arrival, the time to gather his thoughts, to examine what the demands of leadership would require of him that day.

On this particular day, he was barely through the glass doors of the bullpen before he had his first inkling of what those demands might be. Reid was already there. The BAU's youngest agent was almost never late to work….but he was never early, either. He usually arrived, coffee in hand, just before their morning meeting.

But _this_ morning, he was already at his desk, batting a pencil back and forth in his hand, a yellow legal pad full of numbers in front of him. If the mere fact of his early appearance at the BAU hadn't already done so, the pad of numbers would have alerted Hotch. It was one of Reid's 'tells'. He was anxious about something. With as powerful a brain as Reid's, it was nearly impossible to become distracted from an anxiety, unless he threw himself into solving one of the math world's many 'unsolved equations'.

Apparently he'd distracted himself enough, because he didn't look up until Hotch walked over to his desk.

"Reid?"

"Huh? Oh, Hotch. Good morning….."

The unit chief made no attempt to hide the fact that he was studying his youngest. "Good morning. Is there a reason you're in so early?"

In kind, Reid made no attempt to hide the worry in his face. "I need to talk to you about something."

Hotch made sure to keep his sigh internal. It appeared there would be no quiet moment before this day got started. "Come on up."

Reid followed his boss to the upstairs office, and closed the door behind him. Hotch laid his briefcase on his desk and motioned his agent to one of the two chairs in front of it, taking the other himself. He didn't want a large block of furniture between himself and one of his team, not when they were clearly troubled.

"What is it?"

Reid leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs, precipitating a flashback for Hotch. On a Saturday morning a few years ago, he and Reid had been in the same office, in nearly the same positions. That time, it had been about Maeve, and the young man had been completely panicked. This time, Hotch thought with a modicum of relief, he looked upset, but not shaken.

Reid brought his eyes briefly to his unit chief's and then settled them on the floor. "It's the vetting."

"The vetting?"

The younger man heaved a deep breath.

"I'm not sure I'll pass the vetting. And I don't want it to sully the team."

Hotch was having trouble understanding. "You're not sure….Reid, we've worked with the CIA before, twice. Remember? We were all vetted then."

Sad eyes rose to meet his. "That was …...before."

"Before…." Hotch sat back, as it sank in. 'Before' that thing they'd never openly talked about. Because talking about it, without acting on it, would have gotten all of them in trouble. He took a moment to regroup.

"Reid….." He started, and then abruptly cut himself off. He'd been about to make a point by asking the young genius if he'd ever done anything illegal…..until he realized. He had. He'd taken the drugs from the crime scene.

Hotch thought, briefly, back to that time. They'd gotten Reid to the hospital, where he'd been adamant about refusing assistance in getting changed, despite the obvious injury to his foot. They'd humored him, passing it off as part of his hypothermia-induced confusion. But, later, when they were told dilaudid had been found in Reid's bloodstream, and then been told by their crime scene investigators that no drugs had been found at the site….Hotch knew.

Gideon knew too. And, without any discussion, Gideon proceeded to point out, to whomever would listen, the futility of searching a large wooded area, almost completely carpeted in fallen leaves. He'd pointed to the large number of personnel who'd flooded the site once Reid had been found. He'd pointed in any and every direction, except toward his injured agent. In the moment, it had seemed to suffice. There had been no official inquiry into where the drugs had gone.

But Hotch was trying to decrease Reid's anxiety, not heighten it. He would have to try a different tack, and find a question with the 'right' answer. He decided to start with what he knew would be part of the security clearance process.

"Have you ever been arrested?"

"No."

"Diagnosed with a mental illness?"

Longer pause. "No."

"Been fired from a job?"

"This is the only real job I've ever had."

"Have you ever associated with known enemies of the United States?"

"No, of course not!"

From the subtle falling of Reid's shoulders, Hotch could tell he'd already relieved some of the young man's tension. Now he tried to get him all the way down.

"Consorted with any spies after hours?"

Now Reid gave a small smile. "You mean, besides Emily?"

Hotch chuckled. "Touche." Then he leaned forward, catching Reid in an intense stare. This exchange….the _need_ for this exchange…..had shown him the depth of his young genius' insecurities.

Once upon a time, Hotch had assumed the role of mentor for Reid, who'd been so lost when Gideon had abandoned the team. But, then, other responsibilities, and the extreme tragedies in both of their lives, had gotten in the way. Maybe, he thought, it was time to focus on his mentoring once again.

"Reid, you can't change the past. But you can't carry it around with you like an anvil, either. Anything that might have happened before….and any way you might have reacted to it….would only matter if you hadn't turned it around. Which makes it….not an issue. Am I correct?"

Reid's eyes were locked to those of his superior. "I…..no….I mean, of course. You're correct."

Hotch continued to stare at his agent. There was residual anxiety evident in his features. "There's something else?"

Reid bowed his head again. "I….I just don't want to become an issue. This is important." He hastened to add, "Not that everything we do isn't important, but…..even our most prolific serial killer has never taken lives on the scale of a terrorist. I don't want to be a hindrance."

"Reid, I've just asked you pretty much everything you'll be asked for clearance. They'll test your information, of course. It will happen for all of us. For the higher security level that we'll need, they may also talk to family members and others we associate with. Unless you've been doing something I don't know about, you won't have a problem."

He'd inadvertently just troubled his young colleague further.

"They'll talk to my mother? Hotch….. they said she was doing better, but….this was always one of her paranoias. That the government was spying on her. If someone comes and starts asking about me…."

Hotch's raised hand stopped him. "I'll put in a word. I'm sure it will suffice for them to speak with her doctor."

Reid was relieved. "Thanks. And….no, I'm not doing anything you don't know about. Pretty much my only 'associates' who aren't on the team are Henry, and the kids at the chess boards in the park."

Hotch gave a wry smile. "I think they'll manage to skip the kids at the park. But they might speak to some of the university students who've heard you lecture."

Now Reid smiled, his anxiety obviously lessened. "I don't know, Hotch. Maybe they _should_ talk to the chess kids. Remember Bobby Fischer?"

* * *

Hotch convened the team for a meeting at ten. By then, Reid had cleared his pile and was generously helping Morgan, who'd found it more difficult to sneak files onto Reid's desk after moving out of the bullpen and into an office.

"You're all right, Pretty Boy, you know that?"

JJ overheard the exchange and laughed. She was nearing the end of her own Reid-reduced pile.

"He's more than all right, Morgan. He's a life saver."

"Yeah, well, I have a feeling we're about to hear about one more life he can save." They all expected Hotch to tell them about their new team member at the meeting.

Reid spoke up. "I remembered."

At first, neither of them understood. "You remembered…..what?" asked JJ.

"I remembered where I saw her. I still don't know her name, but I can place her now."

By now, Garcia had joined the trek to the conference room.

"Ooh! Are you saying you know who she is? Our newbie?" She could feel her fingers itching to get at her keyboard, and the information it held about her new 'charge'.

"I know where I saw her, but not who she is. We _all_ saw her. That night, at the Benjamin."

Three sets of eyes squinted in concentration. "The Benjamin..." JJ thought aloud. "Oh…, the Benjamin! Rossi's bar!"

"The Benjamin? I don't remember meeting her at the Benjamin," protested Garcia. "What did she do? Why does Reid remember her?" Turning directly to him. "Is it because she's pretty?"

JJ didn't give him a chance to respond. "To tell you the truth, Pen, I don't know how Spence remembers that night at all. I sure don't…"

Morgan's face displayed a teasing smile. "Not after that first round of karaoke….or was it the margaritas that did it? Little Pennsylvania Petite put away more than she could handle that night, huh?"

JJ tried to look righteously indignant, but the fact that Morgan was right deflated her.

"I was….celebrating."

They started taking their seats at the round table. Reid gallantly pulled out a chair for JJ, in a show of support that was belied by his words.

"Yeah, Morgan, she was 'celebrating'. Just like she celebrated when Hotch ran the triathlon. Except that was a little _pre_ -event celebration, wasn't it?"

It had been a 'ladies night' for JJ, Emily and Garcia. And they hadn't returned home to a babysitting Reid until dawn.

JJ punched her good friend playfully on the shoulder. "Actually, Dr. Reid, that night at the Benjamin, I was celebrating your first delivery. It was a pretty momentous occasion, wasn't it?"

She'd helped him, and they'd had that moment, afterward. Not that she'd ever told Reid, but it was a moment JJ had relived, over and over again.

_We did something important. Something positive. Not the ending of a negative. Not the taking down of a killer. We brought a life into the world. And we did it together._

In that moment, JJ had felt partnership. A true sharing, of both joy and responsibility. Something she couldn't quite remember sharing before. Not with anyone on her team, nor even with Will, her life's partner. It was the moment that had set her to start asking some seriously introspective questions, ones she really couldn't share with anyone. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Reid laughed along with JJ, but he'd heard something in her voice. Something wistful. Something sad. He made a mental note to ask her about it when they were alone. And then unmade it. He'd almost forgotten. JJ didn't answer those kinds of questions from him anymore.

Rossi joined them ahead of Hotch.

"Did I hear mention of the Benjamin? How I miss my old watering hole."

Garcia filled him in. "Reid says she was at the Benjamin that night. When we were all singing karaoke. The new girl."

"The new girl?"

"The new team member, the rookie, the newbie, the…."

"She has a name, Garcia." Hotch was in the room. "It's Kate. Kate Callahan. She's from Andy Swan's unit."

"Trafficking?" Morgan sounded skeptical, as though trying to figure out how that qualified her for the BAU.

Hotch understood. "She has eight years with them, and extensive undercover experience."

Morgan absorbed that, and nodded silently, satisfied. His own background included a prolonged stint undercover. Profiling skills were a must in such an endeavor. Not understanding the mindset of the criminals you were associating with could be deadly.

JJ remembered the potential obstacle of yesterday. "Did she figure out her childcare issues? Will she be able to join us?"

Hotch nodded. "She'll be here in the morning. JJ, I'd like you to orient her. Garcia, you'll get her set up with equipment. I suggest you all spend the rest of the day getting your desks cleared. It's likely we'll be starting with DHS tomorrow."

* * *

A far more relaxed Reid entered the FBI Building in Quantico on Friday morning. He'd lost almost a full night's sleep to his worry over the vetting issue, but Hotch's words had settled him, and he'd slept well last night. After swiping himself in and waving to the guard at the security desk, he hurried to the elevator, and caught the closing doors with his messenger bag.

"Sorry..." he started to say, automatically, while his brain chided him. _Really? If you were going to be 'sorry', why would you thrust your bag in there?_ When he saw whose elevator ride he'd interrupted, Reid told his brain to shut up. It was always double thinking everything he did. Such was the burden of genius.

"Hi!" He entered the elevator and swung around to join her in facing the doors. "Kate, right?"

She looked surprised. "How did you know?"

"The Benjamin. You were singing karaoke at the Benjamin the night it closed."

She smiled, remembering. Then, "I remember you, too. But...I don't know your name. How did you know mine?"

He explained, and introduced himself. "Welcome to the team."

Her smile grew. "Thanks!" Then she added, "Hey, have you been back to the Benjamin? It's all techno and twerking now."

Reid wasn't quite sure what to do with that. He'd never officially commissioned her, but JJ was in charge of keeping him up on the new words and phrases being added to the lexicon. Somehow 'twerking' had never come up.

"Um..."

"You mean, you don't twerk?"

Suddenly Reid couldn't wait for them to get to the sixth floor. This interaction had started promisingly, but it was already going awry. He turned away, hoping she wouldn't see the blush creeping up his neck. Then he heard a giggle.

"Sorry...I was only teasing you. I don't twerk either." _In public._

Reid smiled, both in relief that she wasn't serious...and because the elevator doors had opened. They moved the few feet to the glass entry of the BAU, and he held the door for her.

"Wow. A gentleman _and_ a scholar."

He grinned as she moved past him, and then squinted after her. _I thought she didn't know who I was._

_This is going to be interesting._

* * *

_**A.N. For those who are unfamiliar: Bobby Fischer was a US chess grandmaster and world champion who disobeyed a US embargo when he played in Yugoslavia (which no longer exists, as such), and then made his residence in a number of different countries. He made increasingly negative public remarks about the US and, eventually, his passport was revoked. Much ado over a chess champion.** _


	10. Chapter 10

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 10**

Reid brought Kate over to JJ and introduced the two women to each other.

"Welcome, Kate," JJ said, as she shook her hand. "I'll show you around a bit and get you set up. Your desk will be that one, on the other side of Reid. Come on upstairs and I'll introduce you to the rest of the team."

Reid watched as the pair walked away, already chattering about the karaoke night. Kate seemed well on her way to integrating quickly with the team. Which turned out to be a good thing.

By early afternoon, each of them had cleared their desks…..Reid, long since…..and were awaiting a scheduled meeting with a representative of DHS, who would brief them on their task. Garcia and JJ had conspired to have lunch brought in, and the team was gathered in the round table room for a rare non-working meal, all as a means of welcoming their newest teammate. The others all exchanged mutual acquaintances with Kate, while Reid, having only ever worked in the BAU, listened.

"Oh, yeah, I remember hearing about Anderson. I don't know if you guys realize, but he's a bit legendary outside the BAU." Kate took another bite of her sandwich.

"Anderson? You pulling our legs?" Morgan was disbelieving. Anderson was usually a bit player in any of their BAU drama.

Kate licked the mustard from her fingers. "Anderson. He's got a reputation as a great dancer."

Now Rossi's brows went up. "Anderson a dancer? Surely you jest."

She gave an exaggerated nod. "Yep, he's a dancer. And please don't call me Shirley."

Kate studied the rest of her new team for their reaction, praying it would be as she hoped. She didn't think she could deal with the rigors of BAU work if her colleagues were lacking in humor. She was pleased when they nearly all laughed…..even Hotch. But Reid simply looked puzzled. Kate took note when JJ leaned over to him and said something that seemed to clue him in….and then he smiled.

Teamwork. She liked that, even if it was only in the realm of keying one another into a joke. These people seemed to like one another. They seemed attuned to one another. And they seemed to genuinely care about one another. Kate felt like she'd found a new home in the FBI.

* * *

Agent Sidney Hirsch arrived precisely at 1:30 PM. He was met at the glass entry by Aaron Hotchner, the BAU's unit chief, and escorted upstairs to the round table room, where the full team was assembled.

"Good afternoon." The rest nodded or replied in kind, and then a round of introductions took place. Once the niceties were out of the way, Hirsch got down to business.

"You've been asked to consult for the Department of Homeland Security because we believe there is a substantive threat to a major city in the United States. This has been picked up mostly from internet chatter, but there have been some in-person conversations documented as well. We believe this is, at least partly, a home-grown threat."

Morgan spoke up. "Home-grown, as in, the perpetrators are US citizens?"

"Mostly. Or permanent resident aliens. There are a few who are on J1 visas. Since we've got them under observation, we've chosen not to deport them. We want to let it play out, but not quite to fruition."

"Do we know what city is under threat?" asked Reid.

"The department hasn't narrowed that down yet. The chatter hasn't been specific enough."

"Would I be able to look at transcripts?" Reid pressed the issue. Linguistics was one of his areas of expertise. Suddenly he couldn't wait to get his hands on the material.

Hirsch was circumspect. "We expect to be able to give you full clearance by next week."

Before Reid had a chance to become worried that they'd actually found something in his background check, Hirsh explained.

"There are different levels of clearance. You're all okayed for domestic information, but some of the chatter…..quite a bit of it, actually…is international. That takes a higher level of clearance, which we think we'll be able to provide by Monday, or Tuesday, at the latest."

Hotch respected the limitations, but they _had_ come to his team, after all. "What _can_ you tell us?"

"I can tell you that we've got two different threats, one regarding explosives, and one regarding biologicals. But we also think they might actually be planning a two-pronged attack."

Rossi whistled. "Both? What's the point?"

Hirsch responded, "It's a fairly easy way to get the first responders. Aerosolize a biologic through use of an explosive, and you've got a situation where the initial victims either can't be given assistance, or any assistance given results in more victims."

For all but Kate, the scenario brought back memories of one that had taken place in New York City a few years back, when a terrorist cell had planned to kill first responders with explosives. But an aerosolized biologic held the potential to take many more lives.

Morgan remembered New York particularly well, having driven a truck full of explosives into Central Park, barely escaping with his life.

"Going after first responders is a pretty effective way to disrupt a social structure. We know the first responders will still want to do their jobs…..that's who they are. But can their leadership let them? And people who need it will be afraid to call for help, thinking they might be hurt even worse…or killed."

The rest nodded in agreement as Kate asked, "Do we know anything about their targets?"

"We think they're active in at least five major cities-New York, Miami, Chicago, LA….and here. They've got the best chance of blending foreign nationals in those cities," he started.

Rossi interrupted him. "I thought you said this was home grown."

Hirsch hurried to explain. "We think…no, we _know_ ….they're actively recruiting. Having some success, too. But there's an Al Qaeda element involved, and now we're seeing some indication that there are new players as well." He looked around the table apologetically. "I'm afraid that's all I can tell you about that aspect of it until…"

"Until next week. Understood." But Hotch needed better delineation of their task.

"What is it you're asking of us?"

Hirsch stroked a chin whose two day stubble clashed with his crisply pressed suit.

"As you might expect, there are threats against us every day, some credible, some not. The fact that most of those threats don't make the news is testimony to your brethren in other agencies understanding how much fear can alter our very way of life. Which is only one reason why you'll be sworn to the same kind of secrecy."

He ran his eyes over them, looking for their agreement, and receiving slight nods in return. The BAU was very familiar with the concept of keeping an unknowing public unknowing. Life was more enjoyable when one didn't realize how much danger was out there.

Hirsch continued. "This falls into the category of a credible threat. A very credible threat. They seem to have operatives in each of the cities I mentioned, and those operatives are actively recruiting. What we don't know is whether they're targeting government buildings, or communication centers, or transportation hubs, or maybe just looking for a location that tends to be densely populated, like where people go to shop, or for entertainment."

Reid couldn't hold back. "The 'chatter', as you called it…..it didn't give you an indication?"

"It gave _every_ indication, meaning that it indicated all of the above, for each city. That's the problem. We know that they know that we can monitor much of their communication. It's a sure bet they're deliberately planting information for us to skim. And we suspect they've got another method of communication that we haven't yet uncovered."

Garcia had to sit on her hands to keep from rubbing them together in eager anticipation. Hidden communication was right up her alley. As long as it was electronic.

Clearing her throat, Kate spoke up. "Um….I'm new here, so maybe I just don't understand. But….if you know who the recruiters are, why don't you just arrest them before they can do any more damage?"

"It's not quite as simple as that, little lady."

JJ shot her eyes over to Kate, and was surprised to see that her new colleague didn't seem to have taken offense. _Interesting._

Hirsch continued his response. "These organizations are international. If we're showy about disrupting something here, they'll just take it to one of our allies. The world is too dangerous a place for that. We can't afford to be putting our friends at risk. And the recruitment networks here in the US run wide and deep. It's better for us to infiltrate them and make it look like they failed on their own."

Hotch tried to summarize what he understood was being asked of them.

"So, you're asking us to use the communications you have to create a profile of the network that will tell you which is their likely target?"

"Exactly. And we'd like you to profile a bunch of guys we think they're trying to recruit, maybe help us find some we can turn."

One of Garcia's hand's escaped from under her bum, and started waving as though she were answering a question in class. "Ooh, Sir! I know it's not what you're asking, but I'd like to take a crack at looking for their hidden communication."

Rossi nodded his head in her direction. "She's a whiz with a computer. You might want to take her up on that."

Hirsch indulged them. "We've had the best in our agencies working at it. But I guess it couldn't hurt to have fresh eyes. Soon as your clearance comes through, all right?"

She grinned. "Absolutely! Thank you!"

Reid spoke up. "What languages are the communications in?"

"Some of it's in English, but most is in Arabic….oh, and some in Urdu. We should have the latest batch translated for you by next week."

Reid didn't want to look at translations. Too much could be lost in the process.

"That's all right. I'll learn them over the weekend."

Hirsch snorted, thinking it a joke, then sobered when no one else seemed to be laughing.

"He's not kidding?"

Each of the others replied as one, including Kate. "Nope."

* * *

Her usual afternoon restlessness was heightened today, as JJ … and everyone else…..couldn't help but wonder, and worry, whether Washington, DC was the selected target of the planned terrorist attack. She made her customary trip to the coffee bay, but detoured from visiting Reid's desk when she saw he was helping Kate with something on her computer. Instead, she headed to visit Garcia in her den.

"Knock, knock." The door was already open. "What are you up to?"

"Oh, hey, Jayje. I thought I would try to see if I could write a program that would winnow down to electronic traffic that only goes to the five cities he mentioned…Agent Hirsch. Of course, _everything_ goes to those cities, so I have to write a program that finds a needle in a haystack. Or, really, five needles….five _connected_ needles…in a haystack the size of Mars."

JJ closed the door behind her and moved over to perch on the computer table next to her friend. "Not so easy, huh?"

"Not so easy. But not impossible, unless I don't try. You know what they say about the lottery, right?"

"You can't win if you don't play." Which she didn't. Win or play. _Maybe I need to stop being so cautious about absolutely everything._

"Exactly. So, what's going on downstairs?"

"Not too much. Spence is busy showing Kate something, and I …"

"What do you think of her?"

"Kate? She's fine. Seems nice enough. Has a sense of humor. I'd guess she'll fit into the team okay. We just have to see what her skills are like in the field."

"Do you think Reid likes her?"

JJ missed Garcia's meaning. "Well, yes. He's helping her out with something, like I said."

"No, I mean….do you think he _likes_ her?"

The question gave JJ pause. He had specifically remembered seeing her before. And he had been going out of his way to make her feel at home in the BAU. Could it be?

For all of her previous determination to help him find a romantic relationship, JJ found herself disturbed by the idea of it happening within the team structure.

_It_ _would_ _interfere_ _with_ _work_ , _wouldn't_ _it_? _It_ _could_ _be_ _awkward_ _working_ _as_ _a_ _team_ , _it_ _could_ _make_ _one_ _of_ _them_ _take_ _unnecessary_ _chances_ ….

She ran through a whole litany of problems that could arise if there were to be an intra-team relationship. But, in her heart, she knew it wasn't really bothering her for any of those reasons.

_I'm_ _just_ _selfish_ , _I_ _know_. _But_ …. _he's_ my _friend_. _Mine_. _And_ _I need him._

What she said to Garcia was, "Pen, he pretty much just met her for the second time. I doubt he's given it any thought."

Garcia considered that for a moment, then decided. "You're right. And hey, you know what we should do? We should work on his profile. I don't want the last thing I think about on Friday afternoon to be a bunch of terrorists. It would ruin my whole weekend."

JJ laughed. "Okay. But just remember you promised not to submit anything."

"I won't even go to the website, scout's honor. I have the forms downloaded. Let's see, where were we…oh, yeah….we did height, and weight and eyes…..now, 'hair'."

That brought a snort from JJ. "We're supposed to fit a description of his hair on one line? It could easily take a book."

Garcia giggled. "It does seem to have a life of its own, doesn't it? But I think we can just describe what it looks like now. At least it's long again."

"You like him with long hair?"

"Of course….don't you?"

JJ shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I like it every way but really short. I don't think Spence is a short hair kind of guy."

That brought another laugh from Garcia. "Can you just see him with a buzz cut? Or maybe with a full shave, like Morgan?"

JJ held her head. "Stop! The very image is painful!"

"All right. Well, what should I put? Long, brown and with a mind of its own?"

"Hey, sounds good to me. What's next?"

"Hobbies."

"Hobbies." JJ scratched her neck absently as she thought. "Well…..reading. And chess…."

"And solving arcane logic puzzles and math equations." This part wasn't proving to be so promising.

"Oh, I know!" JJ snapped her fingers. "What about softball? He won that game for us with his home run."

"Jayje, that was his first and last softball game. It hardly qualifies as a hobby."

JJ pouted in thought. "Okay, you're right. How about music? You know he plays that keyboard he got. I think he's gotten pretty good at it. Oh, and magic! How could I have forgotten magic?"

Garcia spoke as she typed, "Magic fingers…..many tricks to wow you, or to serenade you. Okay, next up is 'personality'. I can start…he's sweet, and shy, and gentle, and…."

"And caring, and honest, and noble…."

"And brave! Reid is definitely brave." Garcia continued her furious typing. "This is coming out great. I can't see how any woman could resist him…..virtually, anyway."

JJ had been thinking the same thing. The more she thought about it, the more puzzling it was that he hadn't found anyone. Not until Maeve, that is.

She was about to say so when there was a soft knock on the door. "Pen, quick, close the document."

Garcia did so as she issued a verbal welcome to whomever was at the door. A moment later, Reid's head bent into the room.

"Hey, I thought you might be here. I'm going to leave a little early, so I can visit a couple of specialty bookstores downtown. I think I'll learn the languages better if I can read something in them….learn a little about the context. So I'll just see you later on."

"Do you think we should reschedule?" Not wanting their plans to derail his self-appointed task for the weekend.

"Resched…dinner? No, why? I was looking forward to it."

"Well, I just thought, if you're going to be learning two foreign languages this weekend…you know."

Reid shrugged. "I still have Saturday and Sunday. What's for dinner?"

"Special Henry request...dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets. He seems to think they're the real thing. But, don't worry. I'll come up with something different for the adults."

"Don't make anything special for me. Who do you think told Henry about dinosaur meat?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 11**

"He should have been here by now, he left the BAU a couple of hours ago." JJ fretted to Will about the absent Reid.

"Relax, Cher. Didn't you say he was going to a bookstore? What have you always told me about Spencer and books?"

"But he hasn't answered his cell. I've called him four times in the past half hour."

"Well, then, he's probably on his way. Wouldn't be like him to answer the phone while he's driving."

He had a point. But only 'a' point. Because Reid would definitely _check_ his cell, in case they were being called in. So that meant he was screening out her call.

_Maybe he realizes what I did the last time he came to dinner. He's making sure he's late so we can't have another one of those talks._

She was fairly certain he'd been avoiding a continuation of that conversation all week, by making sure he was never alone with her.

_But he pretty much told me that he didn't care if he lived or died. No, scratch that. He actually said he'd rather have died. But, day to day, he doesn't seem unhappy. He certainly doesn't seem suicidal._

She was still relatively new to the role of profiler, but JJ had been reading people for a very long time. And she was acutely attuned to any hint of suicidality. Losing her sister had taught her the importance of that skill. So JJ was comfortable that Reid wasn't actively thinking of harming himself. He just wasn't all that interested in avoiding harm. It was a subtle difference, but it was the kind that leant itself to a decision to be patient with him. There was no immediate danger. No _obvious_ immediate danger, anyway.

_I'll let you play it out the way you want to, Spence. For a while. But that doesn't mean I'm not going to try to find you a reason not to be so sad._

"He's here! Uncle Spence is here!" Henry had been standing vigil at the window. JJ joined him and looked over his head to see Reid emerging from his vehicle, carrying a bottle of wine and a pastry box. She met him at the door.

"Hi! Where were you? I expected you thirty minutes ago."

Internally, she cringed _. Nice going, JJ. Attack him at the door. How's that for letting him 'play it out the way he wants to'?_

"Sorry. Friday night traffic." He moved the box to the arm holding the wine so he could pull out his cell phone. Looking at the screen, he said, "Oh, it was you. I thought it might be, but I was so close, I thought I'd wait until I got here to check."

"Hi, Uncle Spence!"

Reid bent for his hug. "Hey, little man! How are you?"

"I just got a new Lego set! Wanna play?"

Reid looked to JJ for permission. She smiled.

"Dinner will be on the table in fifteen minutes. You guys can play until then."

Permission granted, Reid waved a hello to Will, who was standing at the end of the hallway, and followed Henry into his bedroom.

"Wow, Henry! Look at your room!" A desk had been moved into one corner, and a large portion of the floor was visible. "It looks like a big kid lives here!"

Henry beamed. "This is my new desk, Uncle Spence! It has a place for my pencils, 'n my notebook, 'n everything!" He proceeded to give a tour of the desk, pulling out drawers and displaying their contents.

"That's pretty cool, Henry. Do you do your homework here?"

"Nah. I mostly do it at Karen's. But sometimes Mommy helps me with my workbooks after dinner. We do it in the kitchen."

Reid concocted a mental image of JJ leaning over Henry, drying her hands on a towel as she looked at his large-printed spelling words. It made him smile.

"Workbooks? Wow, that sounds like a lot of homework for first grade."

Henry instructed his godfather in the ways of the world. "Miss Ruth says we have to work hard if we want to be proud of ourselves when we grow up."

Reid gave an exaggerated nod. "Miss Ruth sounds like a very wise lady."

"Yep! And she's pretty, too!"

Henry took care of the clear space on his floor by dumping a box of Legos on it. "We can make a police station with this one!"

His Uncle Spence had learned, a long time ago, to let Henry have free rein with his Legos. Where Reid would prefer to study the spilt contents for a while and begin a mental configuration of the blocks, Henry was always of a mind to dive right in. With the youngster constantly selecting and rejecting individual blocks, there was never enough time for Reid to assimilate one panorama for very long before having to assimilate a slightly different one. Hence, Henry was the Lego expert of the pair, issuing commands to his doting godfather.

"This one goes there, Uncle Spence. And then that one. See?"

"I see." Reid felt his shoulders relaxing as he relinquished full control of the assembly to Henry.

_If_ _I_ _could do this every day, I might get to be as laid back as Rossi._

They'd gotten two walls of the precinct completed before hearing JJ's voice.

"Guys! Dinner's on the table! Time to wash hands!"

Reid started to move, but noticed that Henry was still engrossed. "Hey, Buddy, I think dinner's ready."

"I know." But he continued playing.

"Aren't you excited about eating dinosaur tonight?"

"Naw."

"Why not? I asked your mom to make a point of buying the tyrannosaurus meat, so we wouldn't have to eat a dinosaur that ate vegetables."

Henry looked uncertain. "Are you sure, Uncle Spence?"

"Why?"

"Because Joey said they're just chicken. He said there's no such thing as dinosaur meat."

Reid made a show of looking shocked. "No such thing…..well, too bad for Joey. All I know for sure is that I've been looking forward to it all week."

Henry took it in. It resonated with what he _wanted_ to believe. So he decided. "Me too!" and ran off to the bathroom. A cave man had to eat with clean hands.

Reid smiled as he followed his godson down the hall, adding 'dinosaur meat' to Santa, the tooth fairy and the Easter Bunny on his list of 'come cleans' when Henry got older.

* * *

"Mmmm….this is great, JJ. Thanks for having me."

"You know you're always welcome here, Spence. And you're also welcome to try some of the pasta."

Reid took her up on it, but made a point to say, "Thanks, I'll have a little. But I'm kind of full of tyrannosaurus right now."

JJ stared down her husband, who'd seemed about to make a comment. She spoke before he had a chance to.

"What does it taste like?" Acting the set up man for Reid's punchline.

He appreciated her gesture. "Tastes like chicken. Right, Henry?"

The little blond nodded, his mouth too full to answer. JJ was willing to bet it all tasted like ketchup to Henry, since he drowned nearly everything in it.

As the meal wore on and the adults entered into conversation, Henry became antsy and was excused to watch a favorite program.

Freed from the need to protect little ears, Will remarked, "So, you guys are getting involved in the anti-terrorism campaign."

Reid was non-committal. Although she'd not shared any of Will's reaction to her abduction, he'd sensed that it was a tender thing between the two. No doubt their new assignment would aggravate the situation.

"I don't know about the campaign, but we'll do our best to give them whatever information we can."

"JJ says you're tryin' to learn a new language over the weekend, so you can read the messages."

Will's drawl was thickening. Reid had long since noticed it would come out whenever the New Orleans native was trying to distance himself from JJ's work. And JJ's work colleagues.

_Or maybe he's been trying to distance JJ's home life from us. From me._

That didn't stop Reid from an honest response. "Two languages, actually. I'll still have to work on the idioms, but I should be able to learn the basic structure of the languages and grammar."

He wasn't certain what JJ had shared with Will, but Reid wasn't about to give any specifics.

JJ supplemented his answer with, "He's planning to read some books in each language, to pick up on the nuances."

Will heard the pride in JJ's tone, and tried to get his face to look like he shared it. "Well, that's quite the feat, isn't it Spencer?"

Reid felt the twinge of tension in the air. "It's nothing special. I just learn better in context." He quickly changed the subject. "So, Henry told me that you guys have a scouting thing coming up soon."

Will seemed more open to this subject. "We have a couple. There's a pinewood derby, and then there's an overnight out in the country."

"Pinewood derby! I remember them. My dad used to help me make the cars. But then I think I kind of took the fun out of it for him. I read a book about streamlining, and I figured out how to apply the physics and…..well, I guess maybe he felt like I just didn't need him anymore."

Reid's voice made a virtual journey of discovery. JJ watched it in his features as well. _Maybe his dad didn't think Spence needed him anymore. For anything. And Spence just realized that._

Will was oblivious to the emotion of the moment, but JJ wasn't. She rose and started piling dishes.

"Will, would you help me with these? Spence, I'll bet Henry would love to read you a story."

His godfather's influence had paid off for the youngster. Henry had learned to sight read before the age of four, and was using phonics long before it was taught in school.

"Maybe we can trade. He reads one, I read one." He left the couple to themselves and went to find Henry.

* * *

Thirty minutes and a few loud exchanges from the kitchen later, Reid was finishing up a long fairy tale with a flourish. JJ entered the living room silently and smiled at the sight of her son and her best friend. Henry was curled tightly into Reid's side, eyes wide as he tried to follow along on the page. Reid's arm reached around Henry, tucking him tight, as he read from the book in his lap.

She went back to the kitchen for her phone, and returned, snapping a few photos. _They're both going to cherish these some day. I know for sure I will. I already do._

After the story ended, it was time for bed. That was usually Reid's signal to leave. Back when he'd thought they'd lost Emily, he'd stayed beyond Henry's bedtime quite often. But it had never been a comfortable thing, and the awkwardness of Will sitting with him and JJ had always resulted in a rapid departure by Reid. Then, Will had been a bit more tolerant, realizing Reid's visits as a means of finding comfort. But now, they were 'officially' to see Henry. So, when Henry went down, Reid went home.

He rose and started to say his goodnights. "Thanks for dinner, JJ. It was delicious, as always."

"I was serious before, Spence. You're always welcome here." Feeling like she might be offering him a lifeline…..at least, until she could find him another one out there. If it meant she didn't have to worry about him, JJ was willing to have Reid to dinner every night.

Will wasn't quite as gracious. "Now Cher….I'm sure Spencer has better things to do than to sit at our dinner table every night. Isn't that right, Spencer?"

Again, message sent, and message received. "You know I'm a big fan of your cooking, JJ. But….what's the saying? Absence makes the heart grow fonder?" Doing his best to make light of it. "I sure wouldn't want Henry to get tired of having me around."

She realized what was happening, and decided on the middle ground. "Well, I doubt that would ever happen, but …..Will's probably right. You're busy. And, when you're not, you probably enjoy your peace and quiet."

True enough. He did. But he'd be more than willing to give it up, for the right reason.

Reid turned away from the right reason and headed down the hallway, calling over his shoulder, "Thanks again. I'll see you on Monday, JJ. 'Night, Will."

JJ hurried to get the door for him. "So, good luck with the Arabic and Urdu. I guess you'll have your work cut out for you the next couple of days."

"I think it will be relaxing, actually. I'm looking forward to it. Language is just a giant puzzle that wants to be put together. It's kind of what I like to do."

She smiled. Spence sounded so...Spence. But there was something else she wanted to say. It was why she'd chased him down the hallway.

"Well, enjoy it then. And, Spence...that thing that we talked about last time, that you don't really want to talk about any more? You don't have to worry. I won't force you. I won't forget it, but I won't force you."

He blushed, caught out. She was giving him permission to speak...or not. But also giving him notice that she'd heard him. And that he was on her radar. Reid was surprised to realize that, rather than causing him anxiety, it made him feel more secure.

They exchanged a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks," he told her. "For that...and for the tyrannosaurus nuggets. They were delicious!"


	12. Chapter 12

**A.N. When I wrote this story, Kate was brand new, and we had very little background on her. Not that she stayed around long enough to acquire much of a back story.**

* * *

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 12**

"Hey, Jayje, how was your weekend?"

Garcia scurried past the bullpen desks on her way upstairs.

"It was fine. Hey, what's the hurry? Are you late for something?"

Garcia turned and crooked a finger at her friend. "No, but there's not much time before the meeting. You'll want to come with me."

"I will?"

"Trust me, you will."

That was enough to pique the blonde profiler's curiosity. She pushed back her chair and started up the stairs, waving greetings to Reid and Kate, who were just entering the BAU. She followed Garcia to the tech room and closed the door behind them, knowing instinctively that privacy would be called for.

"All right, Pen….what's up?"

Garcia was already sliding into place in front of her keyboard. "I did a little homework over the weekend, but I wanted your input before I sent it in."

"Homework?" For some bizarre reason, all JJ could think about was quizzing Henry on his spelling words last night. "What homework?"

"I took a stab at writing up his profile."

_Maybe I just need more coffee. None of this conversation is making sense to me. Pen's not a profiler._

"Garcia, what profi…oh. _That_ profile. You wrote up something on Spence, didn't you? I thought I'd asked you not to…."

"You asked me not to submit it, and I haven't. But, I was thinking about it, and before I knew it, there it was."

"If you're not planning to submit it, why are you at the computer?" JJ had that ' _this is out of control_ ' feeling again.

"I sent it to myself in a document, that's all. I'm just calling it up so you can see it." Her feelings a bit hurt, Garcia added, "Unless you don't want to, of course."

JJ saw the hurt in Garcia's eyes, and apologized. "I'm sorry, Pen. It's just that…..I don't want to do anything that Spence wouldn't like."

Garcia recovered quickly. "But that's the beauty of this site, Jayje, remember? He doesn't even have to know. He'll just think he ran into someone by accident."

"Won't _she_ know?"

"Maybe. But not necessarily. So, she might tell him, but, if they've hit it off, he won't care, will he?"

"Is there any way I can talk you out of this?"

"It's a great idea, Jayje. I don't know why I didn't think of it before." She made a few more clicks with her mouse. "Okay, here it is."

JJ leaned over her friend's shoulder to join her in reading through.

' _Let me introduce you to my best friend, Arthur. He's tall, lean, handsome, funny, smart and talented. He loves great literature, film and ComicCon. He can woo you fluently in five languages. He loves to converse about anything and everything, and can enlighten you on any number of subjects. Arthur has had steady employment in a professional field, and is well-traveled. He would do well in a home without pets or small children.'_

JJ snorted at the last. "Did you forget you were writing a profile for a dating site? It sounds like he's a rescue dog, up for adoption."

"Oops. You're right. I guess I was thinking about the 'Reid effect', you know? I wanted to be honest about it, but didn't know how to put it."

"Pen, the 'Reid effect' is long since gone. Surely, you must know that…..you've seen him with Henry. He's a natural."

"Well, with Henry maybe. Oh, and with that little boy with autism…I forgot his name. But Reid found out how to talk to him, through music."

"And the kids at the park…..really, he's been good with kids right along. I think the 'Reid effect' was just because he was so young and insecure when he started with us."

"You're probably right. Okay, I'll change that part."

JJ felt drawn into the exercise, in spite of herself. "That's not the only part I would change."

"Really? All right, what would you write?"

Reid's best friend settled into the chair next to Garcia. "Well, I would say something like this:

' _Meet my best friend, Arthur. I don't share him with just anybody, so you'd better be pretty special. He deserves it. Arthur has been there for me every minute of the past nearly ten years, listening, supporting, counseling …just…loving...me, I guess. He's sweet, and gentle, and kind, and always…always….looks for the good in everyone. He laughs when my jokes are corny, pretends he likes all of my cooking, even when it's vegetables. He loves my son, and treats him as if he were his own. Arthur is a leader who never lets it look like he's leading. He's a true colleague who is always ready to help the rest of his team. He shares his talents willingly and often. And yes, he's tall and lean and smart, and handsome, and funny, and…..and, he's my best friend.'_

Garcia sniffled. "Geez, JJ. You make _me_ want to date him."

A wistful smile crept across JJ's face. "I just want him to have someone….worthy, you know? Someone who will see all the things I see, and value them, and care about him. Someone who won't hurt him."

_Someone who won't leave him. Even if it's not what she wanted._

"Okay, well. I got it down, just as you were saying it. What do you think? Can I hit 'send'?"

JJ was torn. She wanted so badly for Spence to have a happy relationship in his life.

_But who do I know? No one. I don't have a social life myself, how can I use it to find someone for him? Maybe it wouldn't hurt. If nothing comes of it, he'll never have to know. But, if it works…_

"Can you give me a little more time, Pen? I'll decide by this afternoon, I promise."

Garcia lowered the finger she'd had hovering over the keyboard. "All right, this afternoon. But then, it's do or die."

* * *

Sid Hirsch was already in the round table room when the rest entered. The BAU team members were impressed that he'd obviously been doing his homework. He greeted each of them, individually, by name, ending with Reid.

"Dr. Reid, I hope you had a productive weekend. Were you able to make any headway with the languages?"

Reid didn't react to the tone of doubt in Hirsch's voice.

"I was only able to get down three dialects of Arabic, and two of Urdu. And I'm still working on the idioms. But, yes, I made a little progress."

Hirsch made no attempt to hide his surprise this time. "You really did it? You learned to speak two languages over a weekend?"

Reid corrected him. "I learned to _read_ two languages. I focused on the written word to start. I'll start listening to tapes this week, to get the spoken language down."

Hirsch seemed to study Reid in a way that made JJ nervous. It was a proprietary look, which disturbed Hotch as well. But the unit chief chose not to challenge the DHS representative. Not yet.

"How long do you think it will take you to get the spoken language down?" Hirsch sounded intrigued.

Reid was oblivious to the reactions of his colleagues. He shrugged. "It depends. I haven't actually tried any new languages in a few years, but I think it will take me a week or two. It's a little more challenging, because the teaching tapes tend to have very precise diction, but that's not how people actually speak."

Hirsch was astounded. "So, you're saying you might be able to speak both languages in a few weeks? Fluently?"

JJ's experience with State told her exactly where this was going. And she didn't like it. She couldn't stop herself from interjecting, "He's not that good at speaking foreign languages. His accents are awful."

JJ slapped a hand over her mouth, to get it back under control. "Sorry." It was directed to both Reid and Hirsch.

Realization began to dawn on Reid. Maybe it wasn't a good thing to look so appetizing to a ranking member of another agency. "It's all right." Turning to Hirsch, he added, "She's right. I've never been good at fluent conversation in anything other than English."

Before Hirsch could respond, Rossi wrestled control of the conversation.

"So, it sounds like it's a given that Reid will work on the messages. Do you have anything specific for the rest of us? Or can we set our own agenda?"

Hirsch's facial expression was inscrutable. "Do you have a suggestion?"

Rossi sat back in his favorite pontificating position.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do. I propose that you give us all the information you have on any known in-country Al Qaeda operatives. I think we should profile them first, see if we can figure out what makes them tick in that direction. Then we can look at any new contacts."

Hotch was supportive. "He's right. We need to move from a position of strength. And, in this case, knowledge is strength. We need to find out what made these operatives vulnerable, if we're to be able to find any potential recruits and find a way to turn them."

Hirsch took that in for a moment, in silence. He studied the floor as he considered what he was being asked to do. Finally, he looked back to the faces gathered around the table.

"All right. You've all been cleared for intelligence, so we'll be able to share the files with you. But they can't go off site, so you'll have to read through them at DHS. Dr. Reid, you'll probably need to be on site with us to work with the intercepted messages as well."

Morgan looked around at the rest and shrugged. "Sounds like we're moving in. Too bad the new HQ isn't ready yet. When will that be?"

Reid knew something about it. "The new complex is being built on the grounds of what was once St. Elizabeth's. It was the first governmental mental health facility."

JJ winced inwardly. _Of course he would know._

Hirsch added, "It's actually considered a National Historical Landmark, so we're taking precautions to be respectful of that. But we're also looking forward to when we can have all of our functions together in one facility."

DHS was the newest of the federal departments and had incorporated a number of pre-existing agencies. Consequently, it had been relegated to dividing various functions among various locations.

"Where will we be?" asked Hotch.

"That will depend on what you're doing. It sounds like we'll have Dr. Reid with I & A, which is our Office of Intelligence and Analysis. As to the rest of your team, I'll let you decide. The task force has been meeting at our downtown offices, but some of the specific functions happen off site."

Hotch nodded his appreciation at being granted authority over his own team. Turning to the others, he made his assignments.

"Morgan and Rossi, you'll review what's available on the known operatives, see if you can detect a pattern of recruitment. JJ and I will look at the potential recruits to look for vulnerabilities. Kate, I'd like you to go with Reid, help him with analyzing the chatter."

Kate's brow immediately furrowed, but she didn't openly question her superior's direction. None of the others seemed all that surprised by the assignment. She'd just decided to take it up with her boss after the meeting when she was distracted from the issue by Penelope Garcia's loud and not-so-subtle clearing of her throat. The noise drew Hirsch's attention as well.

"Ah, Ms. Garcia. I did manage to get you access to the DHS system. It doesn't go very deep right now, I'm afraid."

"Actually, sir, I don't want access. I want to try to hack it. See, I used to be great at it. They called me the Black Queen, and I had a reputation among the hacker community. I just don't want to get arrested if they figure out I've been in there." _Again._

"You want to try….." Hirsch made a mental note to have a sit down with the aide who'd briefed him on the BAU team. Between what he'd learned about Reid and now about Garcia….and he could only wonder what he had yet to learn about the others…..he was feeling a little under-prepared. "Ms. Garcia, the Department of Homeland Security has one of the best protected systems in the world. I hardly think….."

Morgan was ready to support his Baby Girl. "If it's as well protected as you think, you have nothing to lose by letting her try it. And I'm willing to bet she'll find a hole, if there's a hole to be found."

Hirsch looked to Hotch for direction, and received what was fast becoming a trademark subtle nod of the head.

"All right, Ms. Garcia. Have at it. I won't alert DHS, so no one else in the agency will know. But if someone comes after you…..give me a call." He handed her a card.

Garcia looked like a kid let loose in a candy shop. "Ooh, thank you! I won't disappoint you, sir!"

Hirsch wasn't exactly sure what the tech analyst meant about disappointing him. _Should I be disappointed in her if she doesn't find a hole? Or disappointed in our security if she does?_

After a few details regarding the locations and transportation, the meeting broke. Kate was quick to follow Hotch out the door.

"Sir?"

He didn't seem to realize she was calling him, and kept walking. She called out again, more loudly this time.

"Sir? Can I speak with you a minute?"

Hotch turned mid-stride. "Privately?"

"No, it's okay. I just…are you sure you want me with Reid? I mean…..the only foreign language I know is Spanish, and I'm not very fluent at that. I don't see how I can be helpful."

Hotch realized he should have explained it to her. _How could she have known? She's barely been with us._

"It's not the foreign languages. It's the English."

Now Kate was thoroughly confused. "The English? You need me to help him with the messages in English?"

"We need someone working with him who is familiar with modern cultural references. Reid's entertainment preferences don't lend themselves to his understanding some of the newer additions to the lexicon. And, I thought….well, you have a teenager at home, and…."

Kate grinned, understanding. "You're right. I've had to stay on top of what's popular out there. Okay, great, I can do that." She started to turn away, but then pivoted back. "Will he be okay with that? He won't be insulted?"

Hotch gave a rare half smile. "Trust me, he'll be relieved."

* * *

Only Garcia remained in Quantico, able to attempt her cyber-assault on the DHS system from the comfortably familiar confines of her own technical suite. Morgan and Rossi headed to one of the minor downtown buildings, while JJ and Hotch set up shop at another. The Office of Intelligence and Analysis was housed in the main DHS building downtown, just a few blocks from the National Mall. Kate and Reid walked over together from the Metro.

"Have you always been headquartered in DC?" Reid understood she'd traveled for her undercover work.

"Mostly. I was stationed in New York originally but then I transferred here about thirteen years ago."

"Really. What made you decide to do that?"

Reid was surprised. The NYC office was considered to be a prestigious assignment. The only reason most agents left it for DC was to work their way up the hierarchical ladder. But Kate didn't seem to have been doing that.

"Family."

"Oh, that's right. You have a child. Sorry, I forgot." Reid opened the door for her as they reached their destination. "So, did you move closer so your family could help with child care?" He knew JJ often wished she lived nearer her mother.

"Not exactly." Kate seemed to hesitate a moment, in consideration. "I guess you may as well know. Meg's not my daughter….she's my niece. My sister…her mother…..and my brother-in-law were both stationed at the Pentagon. They died in 9/11. Meg was only a baby."

"Oh….I'm so sorry."

The pair made it through the security checkpoint and headed toward the elevators.

"It was a long time ago. And yet, sometimes it seems like yesterday. Sometimes I look at Meg and I can't believe she's so grown….and that my sister isn't around to see it. That she wasn't around for most of it."

Kate's voice was steady, but Reid heard the pain in it anyway. He took a moment to swallow his own emotion, feeling a certain kinship of loss. He was moved to share a bit of his own. There was something about Kate….an openness, maybe….that made it more comfortable.

"I know. You can't believe they're gone, because you can't imagine life without them. And then you just keep getting up, day after day, until you find out you've actually moved ahead into that life. And you wonder how you got there."

Kate's scrutiny was masked by her smile. "That's exactly it. Sounds like you've had your own losses to deal with."

Despite his feeling comfortable with her, it was still hard to get out. But he managed. "I lost someone I cared about…someone I loved…a couple of years ago. She was killed right in front of me."

"Ouch. I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be done about it now."

"I know, but…..I'm just sorry. Is that okay?"

"Of course…..and, thanks."

"You're welcome. Let me tell you something, Re…." Somehow it didn't feel right to call him by his last name after such an intimate sharing. "Can I call you Spencer?"

"Of course. That's what my mom calls me. And Rossi, sometimes."

She gave him a look of incredulity. "No one else ever calls you by your first name? No one calls you anything but 'Reid'?"

"No, that's not true. Hotch does, all the time. But Morgan calls me 'Kid' sometimes, and…" He started to blush, "and 'Pretty Boy'…"

Kate laughed. Seeing it, and glad to have distracted her from her loss, Reid told her the rest. "And Garcia calls me 'Junior G Man', or 'Baby Genius'."

Kate giggled more. "And what about JJ?"

Inexplicably, the blush deepened. "She calls me 'Spence'."

_Spence._ Kate knew, instinctively, that _she_ wouldn't be calling him by that name.

"Okay, well, then, I shall call you 'Spencer'. Except when I'm mad at you. Then it will be 'Reid'."

It was his turn to laugh. "You're already planning to be mad at me?"

She smiled at him. "Only if we don't get these guys. What I wanted to tell you, _Spencer_ , is that these guys hurt my family once. They hurt thousands of families. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let them do it again."

Reid decided right then and there. He might not ever be able to avenge Maeve...but he could help Kate avenge her sister.

"Let's get to it, then."


	13. Chapter 13

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 13**

"My God, some of these kids are so young, and they're already after them."

JJ read through another from the mountain of files before her. If she hadn't already been frightened at the sheer numbers of potential terrorist recruits, she would have been now, looking at _who_ they were.

Hotch wasn't as surprised. "It's when they're most impressionable. When their major task in life is to find their identity."

"But…..thirteen? This is the fourth thirteen-year-old I've found in the files. God, Henry is six. This could be him before I know it."

Her superior put down his papers and moved behind her chair, looking over her shoulder at the file. All of the potential recruits in his pile had been legal adults, at least eighteen years of age. JJ's words had shaken him. If it could be Henry in seven years, it could be Jack in four.

The two agents made a quick survey of the rest of the files. Sixty-seven of them contained information on boys between thirteen and fourteen years of age.

"It's not a fluke, not with that many. There has to be a reason they're being targeted."

Hotch agreed with her. "Stay with this. I'll call Dave and Morgan. We may need to pull them from the known operatives. It's unlikely we'll turn anyone who's already defected. If we're going to win this battle, it will be with the recruits."

* * *

"Hundreds of them, Aaron. I'd say thousands, but then I'd have to admit exactly how many files we've got sitting in front of us. Are you sure we can't clone Reid?"

Rossi's frustration came across clearly as he spoke into his phone.

Hotch had been thinking the same thing as his old friend. "Don't I wish. Listen, see if you can sort by age and look at the most recent successful recruits. We need to find the commonality here. We need to find the vulnerability and either repair it, or…."

"Or preempt them by taking advantage of it ourselves."

"Exactly." Rossi knew exactly what Hotch was thinking. "All right. I'll see if I can get some help in here. I can hardly see Morgan over the top of my pile."

"They can give you the files electronically, you know." There was a smile in Hotch's voice, knowing his friend's proclivities when it came to technology. Rossi might be willing to use it to write his books, but he was a firm believer in the paper file for his case work.

"You know how it is, don't you?" He'd explained, once. "When suddenly it all comes together? It's because you're absorbing information through your pores. Then it meets up with what you read, somewhere in your gut, and…..voila!"

The rest had all chuckled, at the time. But most of them had also since found reasons to handle paper files more and more often. Reid had never left them. The variability in each page of a paper file helped him create a visual image that melded well with his eidetic memory. The bland similarity of electronic pages was actually a hindrance for the team's resident genius.

As expected, Rossi rejected the suggestion of electronic assistance, and signed off. Morgan, who had been listening in by speaker, had a different idea. He started to pull out his own phone, to call Garcia, but then remembered. She wasn't really providing the tech support to the team this time, DHS was. It was strange, and left him feeling a bit off-kilter not to be able to call his Baby Girl for help.

"I'm just gonna step outside and see if we can get someone to organize these electronically. You know, give us a list of names by birthdates, and then when the files were started as a marker for the date of recruitment. See if they can come up with anything else….."

Picturing, in his mind, Penelope Garcia running a series of keywords through her computers and quickly finding some nubbin they could pick at. They'd worked as a team for so long that the profilers often didn't need to provide direction to her. Now he realized how much he'd come to take that for granted.

"Maybe I'll just call Garcia and see if she can give them some ideas..."

Rossi's look shut the idea down. "Oh, _that_ would go over well. Having an FBI tech analyst tell Homeland Security how to do their jobs."

Morgan had to concede. "Okay. But maybe I'll have her give _me_ her ideas. Then I can make a few 'suggestions'." Making finger quotes.

"Have at it." Rossi was already thumbing through the next file.

* * *

Reid was obviously frustrated with himself. Kate could see it in his face, but didn't understand.

"Spencer? Is something wrong?"

He could only shake his head in impatience. "I should have gotten the audio books. I don't know why I didn't think of it. Most of these messages are from intercepted _spoken_ conversations. How could I have expected to understand what they mean when I don't understand the role of inflection, the use of pauses, the nuances of the language in use?"

Kate's brows raised in amused surprise. "Okay, I get that it would be helpful to have a grasp of those things. But are you really thinking that you wasted a whole weekend by only learning the written version _of two different languages_?"

She'd heard about Reid. More to the point, she'd asked about him, that night at the Benjamin. She'd wondered what deep, dark den of the FBI had been hiding this tall, handsome specimen who was up there singing karaoke with the legendary David Rossi. One of her junior colleagues knew.

"He's a geek. A hot geek, granted, but a geek. He came to a recruitment seminar with Agent Rossi once, told us he had some ridiculous number of degrees, and then Rossi had to rescue us from his lame jokes. We found out later he's supposed to be a genius."

Now she waited for his response, and was pleased to see a small, conciliatory smile on his lips.

"Well, when you put it that way…." Hearing it reflected back to him made Reid realize how ridiculous it sounded.

"Seriously, Spencer, there's probably enough here in English. Can't we start with that?"

He had to concede. "I really wanted to look at all of it in order, to see the progression. But I guess we can start with the English. I can at least read through the transcriptions of the others."

"Can't you also read the translations?" Each message had been printed out, in both the original language and in English.

"I'd rather not. I don't want my processing of them to be affected by someone else's."

"Are you saying you might translate them differently? Doesn't DHS have experts in these languages?"

He didn't quite know how to answer her without implying a sense of superiority that he didn't feel. All he could do was to be honest.

"All of our covert and security agencies are recruiting experts in various languages and cultures as quickly as they can be produced. But there still aren't all that many out there, and we don't know the extent of the inter-translator reliability, so to speak. So, yes, I guess that's what I'm saying. That I might translate them differently, and I don't want to be influenced by anything other than the words, when I try."

Kate flashed back on Hotch and JJ's reactions to Hirsch's fascination with Reid's language abilities, and she began to see what concerned them. Reid was already a desirable prospect to any government agency. Add fluency with two critical languages to the mix, and he might very well be cherry-picked away from the BAU.

_No wonder they were worried._

She tried to find them a starting point. "Would it put them on equal footing if we just _read_ through all of the messages in order? You wouldn't get any inflection at all, but maybe you'd get a baseline sense of what was going on, and then you can tweek it when you can go back and listen."

Reid thought it over. She had a point. It would give them a sense of what kinds of exchanges they'd be working with, and they could use the knowledge of the subject matter to sensitize them to the nuances of inflection later on. Then something else struck him…..the differences in their pronouns.

"We."

"We?" Kate was confused.

"You kept saying that I would be able to work through it better….but it's 'we'. Hotch assigned both of us to this task, Kate."

They both knew he was being generous about her expected contribution, but she was grateful for it nonetheless. Reid's profiling experience went miles deeper than her own, but Kate became determined to do whatever she could to make this joint responsibility a successful one.

"All right, 'we'. I don't know how much I'll be able to help with the actual deciphering, but consider me your right hand man. Or woman. You need me to take down ideas, they're written. You need me to sort piles, they're sorted. You need copies, they're made. You need coffee, I ask how many sugars…"

She watched him for his response to the last. She'd obviously learned of his legendary proclivity toward sweetened caffeine.

He smiled at her. "How about we both just sit down and get started, Agent Callahan?"

She grinned. "You've got that too, Dr. Reid."

* * *

By plan, they ended their day at the BAU. Long experience had taught Hotch the value of familiar surroundings in preserving the functioning of his team. They spent so much time on the road, making do with whatever local law enforcement had to offer, operating in pairs or threesomes. But they did their best thinking, and their best problem-solving, when they were together.

Reid and Kate led off the discussion.

"We started reading through the messages in chronological order, which means there were a mixture of communications in English, Arabic and Urdu."

Kate felt a need to interject. "Spencer read them in the original languages, but I read the translations of the non-English ones."

JJ and Garcia met eyes over the 'Spencer'.

Reid went on. "We got started, but then we realized that some of the messages were oral communications, but some had been in writing, via a mixture of e-mails and texts. Some of the written ones were intercepted in nearly real time, but some were found and compiled later, which messed up our timeline."

"So we had to go back and start from the beginning, which took a good part of the afternoon. But we think we've got them sorted by the actual order of the conversation now."

It didn't sound like all that much progress until Reid thought to add, "From what I've seen so far, I think there are only three or four distinct 'voices', if you will. We're only a little way in, but I think that's holding."

Morgan was intrigued. "So what does that tell you?"

"I can't be sure. But I think it means that what we're seeing is coming directly from the group in charge. That the messages are sent verbatim, even if there's an intermediary actually doing the transmitting."

Rossi wanted clarification. "So you think you're reading the actual words of the terrorist group leaders?"

Reid nodded. "Some of them. I'll….we'll….know better as we work our way through."

"All right, good work. You and Kate will go directly there in the morning, then. Dave, Morgan?"

The two male agents gave a summary of their day's work, citing issues with chronology as well.

"We decided to sample recruits from ten years ago, five years ago, and the past two years. Admittedly, we've got quite a bit more to look at, but I think the trend JJ and Hotch will tell us about is holding. Early on, closest to 9/11, there seemed to be an influx of the disaffected. It looked more like an army of volunteers, citizens who might already have been targeting the US, but found a larger organization to help them."

Morgan took over the story. "At the same time, it looked like there was some targeting of college campuses and mosques. That's still going on, but we saw something new, starting about five years ago. A trend of mid teens…..fifteen, sixteen, seventeen…..being recruited. They'd all be in their twenties now, and are probably a substantial part of the in-country network."

Rossi had something to add. "Most upsetting was the fact that most of these kids had been in active recruitment for a few years before actually joining them."

Hotch nodded. "That's supported by what we saw. JJ?"

"We made a quick review of the files by dates of birth and dates of recruitment. Morgan and Rossi are right. Since about five years ago, there's been a definite trend toward recruitment of a younger cadre, mostly male. From the current files of potential recruits, it looks like they start extremely young, like when the boys are about thirteen."

"Middle school," muttered Reid.

JJ agreed. "Exactly. And then they seem to stay with them until they can convince them to join."

"Why middle school?" Kate had more than a professional interest. Meg was in middle school.

Reid answered her. "It's when they're most easily influenced. They are moving out of the primary circle of the family, and into the circle of the larger society. Their circle of friends, if they have them."

Hotch took it up. His interest went beyond the professional as well.

"A recruiter can look for the most vulnerable of the kids, someone with no friends, or…."

Reid spoke over his unit chief. "Or someone who's being bullied….."

Hotch exchanged a seconds-long look with his young genius, then continued, "and the recruiter can step into that void, and offer something the target thinks he needs."

"A friend?" asked Kate.

Hotch and Reid spoke at the same time. "Vengeance."

* * *

It had been one of those days. She couldn't wait to get home. She couldn't wait to hug Henry, and listen to his monologue on the trials and triumphs of the first grade. She couldn't wait to hear Will complain about the brass in the DC police department, and whatever new directive had come down. She couldn't wait to see the happy mess that was Henry's room, or to hear him make his case for a puppy yet again. _Maybe I'll give in, this time._

She could see it in the others' faces as well. The longing for normalcy, the desire to be able to take something for granted. They'd all learned too much this day. It had happened to them before, and it would happen again. The knowledge of how evil humans could be, preying on the most vulnerable among them, always took its toll. It begged for counterbalance. It begged for reconnection with the people and things that brought joy into their lives.

As she looked around the table, JJ pictured each of them meeting that joy. Her mind's eye saw Penelope Garcia, making dinner with Sam. Morgan, with Savannah. She smiled to herself at the thought of Hotch helping Jack with his homework, and somehow knew a conversation about right and wrong would be taking place as well. She saw Rossi lighting up a fine cigar over a meal in one of his favorite restaurants. She was even able to conjure a mental image of her newest colleague, Kate, going home to the embrace of young, middle-school-aged Meg.

_I should get to know her better. Maybe I'll invite her to dinner on Friday, with Spence and Pen._

_Spence._

Images failed her then. All that would come to mind was his apartment in that time just after Maeve died. The dishevelment of it mirrored his own appearance. She remembered looking at the books strewn on every available surface, most of them open to a particular page or passage. And she remembered wondering if that resembled what was going on inside his head. Whether the powerful mind he'd been granted had become completely overrun with random thoughts and useless axioms about death. She remembered being frightened that Maeve's death would conquer his powerful brain in a way that schizophrenia had failed to do.

She'd made him part of her family then, just as she had when Emily had first left them. She'd done it out of fear, and protection, …and need.

When she tried to picture Spence going home at the end of this awful day, the only picture that would come to mind was of him returning to that book-strewn apartment, and the despair it represented.

_It's not fair. He doesn't deserve that. He's got so much to give._

It was what she and Alex had said when they'd held vigil in that waiting room in Texas. ' _He's still got things to do_.' But JJ was never sure Spence could see that.

* * *

She was nearly at the elevators, headed home for that much-needed hug from Henry, when it all came together for her. In a moment of resolve, she pulled out her phone and punched Garcia's number.

"Pen? It's me. Listen…..go ahead."

"Go ahead?"

"Send it. Submit the profile. Maybe there's somebody out there who's just perfect for him."

It seemed to take an extra beat for Garcia to respond. "Are you sure, now?"

"I'm sure. I want him to go home to someone, Pen. Someone who cares about him. God knows we all need it."

"That, we do. Okay, last chance to renege. My finger is hovering…."

"Go ahead."

"Done! 'Arthur' is officially on the market."

* * *

**_A.N. Everything about terrorism and recruitment is 100% a product of my imagination, influenced by news reports I've read along the way. I have no idea how in-country recruitment happens. I just know that it does._ **


	14. Chapter 14

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 14**

They spent the next few days working their way through the mountains of information available to them, ending each day in a team meeting at the BAU. By Friday, they had a reasonable sense of how most of the recruitment was accomplished. They'd invited Sid Hirsch to join them at the meeting, to share what they'd found.

"It's pretty different from how it happens overseas," Reid commented as Hotch started them off. "In many other parts of the world, there might still be a religious component for some. But, especially for the young recruits, it's more often seen as a way out of poverty. They're promised their families will be cared for, even in the event of their deaths. Sometimes _especially_ in the event of their deaths."

Without mentioning how she knew, JJ added, "That's also how they convince some of the suicide bombers to do what they do. But others are convinced by having their families put in danger. Especially the female bombers. They're told their children will be killed if they don't cooperate."

Garcia's face expressed her shock. "They wouldn't be doing that here, would they?"

Rossi shrugged. "We don't know that they're not. We only know that they seem to be targeting a more privileged crowd on our turf. They're going after the ideologues, who are often among the most educated…"

Morgan snorted. "Hmph. Mis-educated, you mean."

"Maybe," conceded Rossi. "Or else they're just well-educated and disenchanted."

Reid jumped in. "That's the group that's far more privileged. Some of them come from the upper economic levels of our society, they seem to have anything they could ever want...."

Kate recognized the description. "But something happens…..or maybe there's just some dysfunction in the family….and they begin to question their priorities, and the priorities of everyone else around them."

JJ agreed. "They're the ones who make you wonder why they would throw it all away….."

"Until you look more deeply and find out they really didn't have 'it' at all. It was all a façade. They had things, but not relationships," Reid finished for her.

Rossi had something else to add. "Some of them come from strict religious households, but that religion is almost never Islam. Islam is what they turn to when they rebel against their families and their churches. Some of them find what they're looking for, but others are targeted by our network. They get them and radicalize them before they can learn the true tenets of the religion."

Hotch brought them back on point. "That's one method of recruitment. It's what they've been doing since the late 80's, and it's still going on. It has, essentially, given them adult operatives who are free to conduct business in the US, but also free to move virtually unobstructed around the world. But we've also got a second type of recruitment threat to consider. One that's much more insidious, and, ultimately, much more dangerous."

"That's where the younger kids come in. They're targeting kids as young as thirteen, almost exclusively boys, and grooming them into something like a sleeper sect," reported JJ.

"How do they choose them?" Garcia's godmotherly concern was evident in her voice. It sounded like she was already gearing up to do battle for Henry.

Hotch fielded it. "They find the kids at risk…..the ones without a strong parental presence in the home. Kids in the system, where foster care hasn't worked. Kids who are being bullied, and need protection."

JJ expounded on it. "They have a pretty sophisticated way of weeding through them. It looks like they specifically try to identify kids with diagnosed behavioral or mental health disorders, and stay away from them."

Morgan muttered, "Yeah, they don't need those problems in their ranks. Too unpredictable."

Reid agreed, but thought it an almost impossible task. "They'll mess up eventually. Over ninety percent of kids who enter the child welfare system do so because their parents are dysfunctional in some way. Some of that will prove to be genetic. They'll definitely end up with some mental illness among their ranks."

Rossi was sardonic. "But, unfortunately, they don't exactly handle that particular problem with kid gloves….pardon the pun. They'll eliminate anyone who won't or can't follow orders."

All of them thought of it at once, including Garcia. Before Hotch could give the direction, she rose, announcing, "I'm on it. Look for 'missings' from the kids who've disappeared from the system after some new, significant adult figure entered their lives."

Hirsch wasn't so convinced. "Why wouldn't those just be your run-of-the-mill pedophiles?"

"They might be," replied Rossi. "But they might also be part of an active recruitment network. Once we get some information, we'll be able to cross reference."

"How is she going to find these new adult figures in their lives? What the hell kind of computer program tells you that?"

Morgan defended his Baby Girl. "Garcia's been working with this team for a long time. She's learned a lot about how we think. So she knows to look for clubs, youth groups, scouting troops, after-school organizations….all the places kids and adults might meet up outside the home."

JJ joined in. "She'll look in the geographic areas we know the missing kids lived in, and then she'll hunt around on social media and news media for anything that puts the two together."

"Sounds pretty time consuming to me. And very non-specific."

Hotch explained. "That's where the profiling comes in. She'll give us a set of possibles, and we'll run the scenarios against what we know. But you're right about it being time-intensive, especially when we don't know anything about either the victim….in this case, the youth….or the unsub….the recruiter."

Hirsch nodded an impatient assent. "You're right about that. You don't even know if you have a crime at all." The DHS rep liked to analyze known facts, not develop plans around a complete set of suppositions. "So, what do I report back?"

Reid loosened his collar as he cleared his throat. "Well, we do have a little progress on the communications. As I told you, I think there are four or five distinct voices. I can't be sure about the fifth, as it's pretty similar to one of the others. But that tells me that most of what you've gathered is original, meaning it is probably being delivered verbatim. That's not to say there's not code within it, but only that the messenger didn't alter the message. It will make it easier for me to decipher anything that's not completely literal. Once I get the inflections down, that is."

JJ had noticed the shadows around his eyes deepening all week, and had asked him about it.

"Are you all right, Spence? You look exhausted."

He'd explained it to her. He'd been up much of every night, listening to audio recordings of spoken Arabic and Urdu. "I need to hear it, to give it context. The written words may not tell the whole story…..these guys have found many ways to encrypt messages, and that might include their intonation."

"Well, just make sure you get some rest, okay? It's not like this is brand new, right? It's been going on for a long time. How much difference can it make if it goes on a week longer, so you can get some sleep at night?"

"That's just the thing, JJ. The sheer numbers of these things are increasing. We'd gotten them all sorted and were reading through them by day two, but we've got, literally, hundreds more to go through already. The rate of communication is accelerating. I think something might be coming."

Now he shared the same thing back to Hirsch, who was already aware of the increased chatter.

"We agree with you, Dr. Reid. But we don't think it's imminent. There have been fluctuations in the amount of discourse among them before, without anything coming to fruition."

JJ saw that familiar look come into Reid's eyes, the one that always told her how much was going on behind them. He clearly didn't agree with what the DHS rep was saying, but he also wasn't about to openly challenge him. Not yet.

Ten minutes later, the meeting ended with assignments made for Monday. As she pushed her chair back under the table, JJ noticed that Reid was still seated, and walked over.

"Spence, would it be better for you if we rescheduled? You look like you're sleepwalking already."

He pushed back slowly and stood. "I'm fine. Didn't you say Henry is looking forward to having an audience for his performance?" He grinned, thinking of how frustrated she'd been all week.

She laughed, but warned him. "Trust me. After this, you'll be asking the same question. Why, exactly, do they think every first grader needs to learn to play the recorder?"

Kate was still gathering her things, and overheard them. "Oh, I remember that! Meg was actually pretty good with it, though. It's what got her started on the flute."

That reminded JJ. "Kate, I know this is last minute and all, but…..if you don't have other plans, would you like to come to dinner with us? Spence and Garcia are coming." For some reason, she felt a need to add, "They're Henry's godparents."

"I was just going to swing by the school to get Meg after basketball, and then pick up a pizza. I'm too tired to cook!"

JJ acknowledged it with a grin. "That's why God made the crock pot. Dinner's been cooking all day. And there's plenty, so you could bring Meg along."

Their new colleague seemed uncertain. "Can we play it by ear, then? You know how thirteen year old girls can be. Let me see what kind of day it's been. But, thanks, either way, for inviting me. Maybe I can pull out my own slow cooker and return the favor some day."

"It's a deal. Seriously, if it seems like she's okay with it, we'd love to have you and Meg join us."

"Okay. See you later. I hope!"

* * *

Eyes as big as saucers stared across the table at the unexpected dinner guest. Henry had given his usual enthusiastic welcome to his godparents, but when the bell rang again a few minutes after their arrival, he'd shyly hidden behind his father's legs, not at all certain what to make of the two females who stood in the doorway.

Gradually, he'd emerged, and said a reluctant 'hello'. Now he was sitting across from Meg, making no effort whatsoever to hide his curiosity. JJ's eyes met Garcia's, and they both smiled at the enthralled look on the face of the little boy they both loved so much.

"Hey, Henry, you haven't told me anything about school. How do you like your new teacher?" Penelope tried to draw him out.

"She's nice."

"Somebody told me she's also very pretty. Is she?" Reid had filled his fellow godparent in on his visit with Henry last week.

"Kinda." Not wanting to diminish the beauty of his dinner guest.

JJ turned to Kate with an amused, helpless look. "Does it really start this early? The one and two word answers?"

"Only in public. I think we might be cramping his style. Are we?"

Will reassured his guest, his southern hospitality on display in the depth of his drawl. "Nah. He's just excited to have company. Neither one of us has family close by."

"And he's kind of used to us," Garcia explained, of herself and Reid.

"Oh. Well, JJ, let me say that this is absolutely delicious. I'm really going to have to find my slow cooker."

"Thanks. It's Spence's favorite. Right, Spence?"

"Mmm….mmmph…" Reid found it hard to speak with his mouth full. Finally, he swallowed, and said, "Absolutely. Apricot chicken is my all time favorite."

_Now_ Henry spoke up. "You don't like it better than dinosaur nuggets, do you, Uncle Spence?" Sounding shocked at the very idea.

Reid hurried to assure his godson. "No, of course not! I don't know what I was thinking. It's my _second_ favorite thing, right after roast tyrannosaurus."

Now Meg's eyes widened. She looked at her aunt with a ' _should I take this guy seriously_?' expression on her face. Kate just smiled and shrugged. This was her new team, such as it was. And what it was, it seemed, was family. That was a good thing.

As the meal wound down, JJ rose and started stacking dishes. Kate and Meg immediately stood to help her, but she shooed them away.

"Go ahead into the living room. Henry's going to play his new recorder for his godparents."

That got Meg's interest. "Henry, you play the recorder? I used to play too! But now I play the flute. Want me to show you a couple of things?"

Will spoke up for his son. "I think Henry would rather learn the drums, but apparently that wasn't an option."

Meg remembered. "I think that's more like third grade. That's when they started band. Before that, it was just the recorders. But I thought it was fun."

"Yeah, well. I guess Henry will have to wait to have his fun."

Meg was surprisingly assertive about it, alerting the profilers in the room about the depth of her involvement with her music. "There's no reason it can't be fun right now. Come on, Henry, let me show you some things I didn't learn until second grade. You'll be the best recorder player in your whole class!"

"Okay!" The obviously smitten little blonde followed his new friend out of the kitchen, followed by the poorly smothered giggling of the adults.

Garcia recovered first. "Well, she's only seven years older than he is. When she's eighty, and he's only seventy-three, it won't seem like such a big difference."

They all laughed at that, and then JJ sent the rest out to the living room.

"I'll be right there. It won't take me but a minute to put these in the dishwasher."

Garcia lingered behind for a moment alone with her friend and fellow conspirator.

"So, when do you think he should meet Stephanie?"

"Huh? I thought you were just hooking Henry up with Meg."

"Not Henry. Reid. When do you think he should meet her?"

Eyes wide, JJ gulped. "You got a response?"

" _We_ got a response. Or, I guess we should say, Baby Genius did. Her name is Stephanie. Obviously."

"What…..when….. already?"

"My dearest JJ, why are you surprised? I mean, after that profile you wrote…"

" _I_ wrote?! I just told you what I _would_ have said, if I'd been writing about him."

"And I took it all down, dutifully. Jayje, I'm on the keyboard all day. You should know how fast I can type."

"Well…. I guess I'm just surprised that anyone took the time to read it, that's all. I guess."

"Well, _my_ guess is that they took the time to read it right after they looked at his picture."

For some reason, it had totally escaped JJ that there would be a photograph of Reid on the screen. She didn't have to ask how she'd managed it. She knew Garcia would have had her pick of anything in any of their collections.

"Which one did you use?"

"Actually, I snuck a new one the other day. I thought I should try to be honest about the current state of his hair, so I didn't think I should use an old one."

"He wasn't wearing a sweater vest, was he?" JJ didn't mind them on him, as long as he coordinated with his shirt….but that wasn't always the case.

"Nope. Purple shirt, gray tie." Garcia noted the smile spreading across JJ's face. "I knew you would approve."

"Can I see?"

Garcia pulled it up on her phone's camera roll. "Did I do good?"

"You did." JJ finished putting the last dish in the dishwasher and turned around, leaning on the counter. "So….Stephanie?"

Garcia's excitement was obvious. "That's her real name. On the site, she was 'Amelia'."

"As in Earhart?"

"Exactly. Because her friends think she's undaunted and daring."

"Undaunted and daring...I don't know, Pen."

"No, it's okay, really, I spoke with her. One of her friends contacted me first. They said they put her up on the site without telling her, but then she found out. She was going to make them take her stuff down, but then….well, they showed her our boy's picture, and she read the profile, and…"

"And she agreed to meet him?"

"Yep. So, when should we arrange it?"

"Don't we have to tell Spence first?" Dreading the thought of it.

"Not if Stephanie knows. We can just tell her where he'll be. She already knows what he looks like. She can take it from there. The only thing we have to figure out is where he'll be, and when."

That had done nothing to ease JJ's mind. "What's her story? Why did her friends put her on the site?"

"Cher?" Will's voice came in from the living room. "Are you done yet? Henry's ready."

"Coming. Just a second!" In a whisper, she demanded of Garcia, "What do we know about her?"

For just a few seconds, Penelope Garcia flashed on Mama Bear JJ's demanding the same information about a potential date for Henry, one day down the road. _Good luck, my little man._

"It's a sad story. She's a widow, at thirty-two. Apparently her husband was killed four years ago, in Iraq, and she's been alone ever since."

"What does she do? You know, for a living?"

"She's a cellist."

"A what?"

"A cellist. She plays the cello for the National Symphony Orchestra. Isn't that cool?"

She had to wait a beat for JJ's response. "A cellist. Sure. Cool."

"You don't like that?"

"I guess I still don't know enough about her. Can we put any meetings off until we can talk about this some more? We can't do it now. I don't want everyone to be wondering what we're up to out here."

Garcia was disappointed not to be setting a specific date, but she conceded. "All right. I'll send you the link, and you can read through her whole profile." She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Then we can get started. We've got some serious matchmaking to do!"


	15. Chapter 15

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 15**

"Thanks, Meg. I think Henry still has a long way to go, but you made it fun for him." JJ walked the young teen and Kate to the door.

"Henry's a good kid. He's pretty smart for a first-grader, isn't he?" Meg had enjoyed teaching the youngster some recorder tricks-of-the-trade…..and she hadn't minded his adulation, either.

"Well, thanks….I like to think he is, but then, I'm his mother. And really," JJ addressed her remarks to Kate now, "I think Spence has influenced that more than either Will or I have."

Kate chuckled. "Well, even Spencer needs a substrate to work with. I think it would be safe to take the genetic credit." They'd reached the doorway. "Thanks for including us, JJ. It was a nice way to get to know some of you better. You have a lovely home, and a great family."

The blonde profiler smiled. "Thanks. And we'll definitely do it again sometime. Like Will said, we don't have any local family besides you guys, and it's nice for Henry to get a sense of what it would be like. Not to mention I'm still trying to fatten Spence up."

The visitors chuckled as they waved a final goodbye. The two were followed shortly out the door by Garcia.

"We're starting rehearsals for a new play tomorrow, and I've got to be there early. So I need to say goodnight too, my sweet. Thanks for dinner. Make sure you tell Henry to keep at it. He'll make a great musician some day!" She gave JJ a peck on the cheek and hurried off.

Closing the door behind them, JJ made her way back to the living room. With their guests leaving, Will had turned on the TV and was searching out a movie.

"Where's Spence? Is he still with Henry?" The little one had insisted on reading his godfather one more story. JJ had seen it as an obvious stall tactic, but Reid had been inclined to indulge his godson. "Besides," he'd yawned, "it will only take a few minutes."

"I thought he'd left with the rest of them. Maybe you just didn't see him go?"

Frowning, JJ left Will to the TV and headed for Henry's room. The door was just slightly ajar, and she pushed it gently open. Inside, in light too dim for reading, she saw two figures splayed out on Henry's bed, each snoring softly.

Henry was already under his covers, but Reid was lying atop the bed. JJ went out to the linen closet to retrieve a blanket. She brought it back to the room, billowed it out, and let it waft slowly down onto her target. When she saw that his feet were still sticking out, she went to the living room to get an additional throw.

"Cher, what are you doing? C'mon it's Friday night, and Henry's asleep. Let's make the most of it…. like the old days."

She smiled at her husband. "You mean the days before Henry?"

Will smiled in return. " _Were_ there days before Henry? I can't seem to remember them." Said with much affection.

It was always an exchange like this one that grounded her. There were plenty of occasions of tension between them, and she'd more and more often questioned whether they would, ultimately, make it together. But then they'd fall back into something that felt like it could hold, and she would once again become more secure in the marriage.

In her hidden heart, JJ knew that their relationship really hadn't existed before Henry. Not really. Her pregnancy was the thing that had made everything real, and a decision about who they were and where they were going, necessary. Since his birth, it had been Henry, and their shared love for him, that had kept them close. It had been the near loss of him, and of all that made them a family, that had caused her to finally relinquish her reluctance to make the commitment official.

Since that time, she'd had cause to wonder if she'd simply been too emotional and rash on that most difficult day. But, then, there would be times like these. Times when she felt a connection, a grounding, a sense of family. On nights like tonight, which started with being surrounded by her BAU family, the warm sense of belonging to that larger group somehow also enriched the love of her small family of three.

"I'll be right back. I just want to throw this over Spence."

"What? Where is he?"

"Sound asleep on Henry's bed. I knew he was exhausted...he's been up most nights this week listening to language recordings. I offered to reschedule, but he knew Henry was counting on it. Anyway….he's out cold. I thought I'd just let him sleep there."

"All night? Why don't you just wake him up and give him some coffee? That'll keep him awake enough until he gets home."

Will wasn't all that thrilled at the thought of waking up to another member of the BAU in his house on a Saturday morning.

"I don't know, Will. He's worn out."

"Cher, weren't we taking Henry out to breakfast tomorrow? And then going to get his scout uniform?"

"How…" She'd been about to ask how Reid sleeping over would interfere with that, when it struck her. _He wants his family to himself. I guess I can't blame him._

"All right. I'll wake him up. You want to put on the coffee?"

"Sure." _You bet I do._

JJ went back to her son's bedroom and did her best to ever-so-gently nudge Reid without jostling the bed enough to wake Henry.

"Spence…." she whispered as she shook his shoulder. "Spence…" She couldn't help it if her fingers also demanded to push back the hair that had fallen into his face. "Spence….."

JJ smiled in reflex response to the one that crossed his face, apparently from something going on in his dream. She hated to interrupt whatever was making him happy, but…."Spence..." She'd bent down to whisper it directly into his ear this time.

His lids began to flicker, and then his eyes slowly blinked open. It seemed to take him a moment to orient, as he looked around at his surroundings.

_JJ, why are you in my bed…oh._

He started to sit up, but JJ stopped him, indicating he should roll off the bed instead. Less chance of a stray bony elbow poking into the sleeping Henry. Reid obeyed, and followed her out into the hallway.

"Sorry, I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep….well, obviously."

She smiled. "I'm not surprised. You've been looking more and more exhausted all week. I want you to promise me you'll sleep in tomorrow morning, all right? It won't do anyone any good if you learn the languages but die of exhaustion."

"Point taken. All right. Let me throw some water on my face, and I'll be on my way." They'd reached the living room, which was currently empty. "Has everyone else gone?"

Will came through the door from the kitchen, carrying a steaming mug. "A while ago. Here, this ought to wake you up enough to get you home."

Grateful, Reid reached for the coffee and took a sip. JJ burst out laughing when she saw the look on his face, and the fact that he was obviously trying to hide his distaste.

"C'mon, the sugar's in the fridge."

Reid looked an apology as he followed her into the kitchen. "Thanks, Will. It's just…"

"Just that you like sweet things," Will finished for him. "I get the picture."

* * *

"He'll be fine with it, JJ. Well, if they hit it off, that is…" Garcia was calling during a break in her rehearsal.

"I don't know, Pen. I'm nervous about it."

"Wasn't it you who was determined to make sure he had someone in his life? I sure thought it was a good idea. Our sweet boo shouldn't be alone. It makes him too sad."

JJ wasn't so sure about that. Reid had seemed content with his relatively solitary life, before Maeve. It wasn't so much that he'd missed having anyone, before. It was that he missed having Maeve, now.

_Maybe I was being too rash. Maybe I was measuring the quality of his life against my own yardstick. Maybe what's right for me isn't right for him._

Her mental argument made sense. And yet….she knew, as well as she knew anything, that it would be good for him. That…..even if he didn't know it, maybe because he'd never had it…it would bring him a fullness he didn't know enough to miss.

"But….I guess I just thought maybe we'd think of someone we knew, and then we could help them meet. This….this setting up something with someone we don't know at all…."

"Sweets, we went through that, didn't we? There wasn't anyone we could come up with who wasn't already married or engaged. Unless…. what about Kate?"

"Kate? But we _work_ with her."

"So what? There's only a taboo on dating a subordinate. Reid and Kate are peers. And besides, they seem to get on well together."

It still didn't sit well with JJ, but she wasn't sure why. She could only postulate.

"Did you get the impression that she's with someone? Or maybe that she _was_ with someone? Did we ever find out if she was married?"

"No. Why, did you get that impression? And no, I never finished my 'research'. We got pulled away to the terrorism thing before I could. But I can look into it when I get home…"

"No…no, don't Pen. The last thing we should be doing is spying on our new team member. I kind of like her, don't you?"

"She's great. Funny, smart. And she seemed really good with her niece."

That triggered a near-memory in JJ. But it wouldn't come all the way back. "Maybe it was something Meg said. I just can't remember. I just remember thinking that I should have thought to offer for her to bring someone else, if she'd wanted to."

"Hmm. Well. I guess we'll find out one of these days."

"Hmph. Like we found out that Blake had a son?"

"Ah. You're right. Well, the offer stands. If you want me to look I will."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Okay, so that leaves us with Stephanie. Did you find out his plans for the weekend?"

JJ told Garcia about Reid falling asleep with Henry and her admonishment to him to be sure to get some rest.

"Right. So he'll just be sleeping through the weekend. Not."

"I know. I did ask him if he had any other plans. He said he might wander to the park to play chess with the kids on Sunday afternoon….he finds it distracts him enough to help him think."

She'd been inordinately happy to hear that, as she was aware he'd let go of pretty much all of his routines while he'd been in the throes of depression.

Garcia gave an affectionate chuckle. "Leave it to our genius to look for a distraction to help him think!"

JJ joined her. "Sometimes I wonder what it's like inside his head, that he uses something that takes all my concentration to get rid of some of his mental chatter, so he can focus."

"That's our boy. I hope Stephanie is up for that."

"Pen…"

"Jayje, I know you're worried about how he'll react. But you're also worried about him, correct?"

She had to admit the dilemma. "True."

"So….let it happen. I told you, I spoke with her. And I'll text you the link to her profile. She seems really nice, and pretty savvy. If it doesn't work out, he'll never know. And, if it does…..he won't care how it happened, will he?"

Still sounding uncertain, JJ conceded. "I guess."

"So…..the park near his apartment….near that coffee shop, right? Do you know what time?"

"I think he usually heads out at about two. He gets coffee, and then goes for a walk, or plays chess, or finds a bookstore somewhere….it's his usual Sunday routine."

Not bothering to ask how her friend knew that, Garcia simply replied, "Okay, I'll get in touch with her. Text coming your way….now."

* * *

_I'd like you to meet my best friend, Amelia. She's amazing. Really, that's all you need to know, take my word for it. Oh, right. You don't know me. Okay, so maybe you'll want to know more about her. Here's the scoop. She's warm, and funny, and brilliant, and talented. Oh, and did I mention that she's beautiful? She plays the cello, and sometimes it's so sweet, and sometimes so mournful, that it just makes you cry. I mean that in a good way. She loves kids and teaches them to love music as much as she does. Mostly, she's just an amazing friend who deserves someone equally amazing in her life._

JJ read through the profile again for the what must have been the twentieth time. _She sounds….'amazing'. At least I know she's got good friends. Or one good friend, anyway. But, I've got to admit, she does sound promising. Of course, I'm not the one who would be dating her._

She'd been checking the clock on and off for hours, not able to recall the last time the hands had moved so slowly. Finally, it reached two o'clock, and she could feel her tension begin to build. She coaxed Henry outside for a game of soccer and worked off some nervous energy. By the time she looked at her watch again, thirty minutes had passed.

_Two-thirty. It might have happened already. Or not. And how would I know? I can't very well call and ask him. Can I? What if he doesn't even mention it? He didn't exactly bring us all into the relationship with Maeve, did he?_

That he'd chosen to share the fact of that relationship with Alex, and not with her, had hurt JJ. She'd seen it as symptomatic of the rift between them, only partially repaired. The loss of Maeve had given her a chance to try to close some of it. But the events of the past year….the necessary withholding of her work relationship with Cruz, and the unnecessary withholding of her personal traumas….. they'd kept the rift from closing all the way. The pain of it was in knowing that, while their caring for each other was still as deep as it had ever been, their sharing had become much more shallow. JJ could only hope that Reid wanted that to change as much as she did.

_So, will this help or hurt? I guess Pen's right. The worst that can happen is that they don't meet, or don't hit it off. He won't know, so he won't be mad. And the best that can happen is that they do hit it off, and it turns into something that will make him happy. I need to stop thinking about it, or I'll make myself crazy. Or maybe I already have. Because I'm spending all day obsessing on this when I should be worrying about the fact that terrorists may have made the city I live in a target for an imminent attack._

* * *

"Hey! You're back!" Gary made no effort to hide the excitement in his voice. As the emerging chess master among the usual park gathering, he found his skills infrequently challenged…..and he loved a good challenge.

"Hi yourself. Yeah, I haven't been around as much, but…" Reid waved his arms at the late summer beauty that surrounded them, "… it's too nice a day to be indoors."

His usual routine had been disrupted, first by his weekly phone calls with Maeve, and then by the prolonged inertia of grieving. He'd begun to emerge again about six months ago, but the emergence was sporadic, and often not sustained for more than a week or two at a time. Reid had no reason to believe this visit to the park would be followed by another anytime soon.

"So, you up for a game?"

Reid removed his satchel from his shoulder and laid it on the ground. "Sure am. Be nice to me, I'm a little rusty."

Gary laughed. "A rusty you is still a great game for me." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I still like playing here, but… it's not as much fun anymore. It doesn't take much to beat the others…but I also don't want the new players to get discouraged. I'm trying to learn how to lose a game without them being able to tell I was trying to lose it."

Reid smiled the smile of a mentor proud of his protégé. Recognizing it, Gary had an insight.

"You did it with me? You let me win?" Partly disappointed, partly inspired.

"Only at the very beginning. See, it was part of my own challenge….. not making it too easy, so you'd have to learn, and anticipate the moves. You were so quick, though. Before I knew it, I was locked in mortal battle with a worthy opponent. And I think I lost about half the time. Really lost."

Gary smiled. "Maybe a quarter of the time. But…really? It was fun for you?"

Reid shifted on the bench. "Gary, chess isn't all about winning. Sure, it's fun to win. But it's as much about the development of the mind….your own, and those coming up behind you. It's important for a chess master to teach, to pass along the skill. It sounds like that's what you're trying to do."

The teen chuckled. "Like Yoda." Knowing his fellow geek would understand.

Said geek smiled. "Like Yoda." Reid spun the board to give Gary the first move. "Here, let's play. I can show you some interesting ways to lose."

They were three games into 'learned losing' when Reid sensed a shift in the atmosphere. He was used to having an audience for his chess games, and today had been no exception. Surrounded by young players, they'd had to revert to coded statements that wouldn't let the audience know they were focused on losing. But, just now, those young eyes had all risen and were clearly staring at something just over Reid's right shoulder.

The mystery was resolved when a couple of the kids spoke almost simultaneously.

"Hi, Miss Stephanie!"


	16. Chapter 16

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 16**

"Hi, Miss Stephanie!"

"Hi, guys!"

Reid turned his head to look over his shoulder at the owner of the female voice. She was standing only a few feet behind him, and his movement seemed to catch her eye.

"Hi." A smile on her face, a friendly tone to her voice.

"Hi."

That was pretty much the extent of Reid's witty conversational repertoire with someone he didn't know, so he made to turn back to the game. But his opponent was distracted. Gary seemed to know their visitor as well.

"Hi, Miss Stephanie! What are you doing here?"

"It's so nice to see you again, Gary. How have you been? Are you still practicing?" Not really answering his question.

Reid made a half-turn on the bench and looked back and forth between the two, settling his gaze on Gary.

"Practicing?" he asked.

"Miss Stephanie gave me music lessons. She was teaching me to play the cello." To the woman, he gave an apology. "I got kind of busy. But I still play sometimes."

Now Reid looked at the two younger boys who'd first greeted their visitor. "You guys too?"

"Yep!" and "I'm on book two!"

Stephanie looked at Reid. "You too? Are you giving lessons?" She waved at the chessboard.

"Me? No, I just come to play sometimes. These guys give me a pretty good game." He smiled at the kids around him, receiving several wide, appreciative grins in return.

Gary had more to offer. "I probably learned more about chess from Spencer than from anybody else, ever." Proudly showing off his first-name relationship with the master.

"Well, then…..Spencer, is it? I guess there are many ways to teach, aren't there?"

She'd put out her hand, giving Reid no choice but to take it. "Spencer Reid. And you're Miss Stephanie."

She smiled. "Just plain Stephanie for you. I'm Stephanie Rowe. Nice to meet you."

He smiled in return. "Nice to meet you, too, Just Plain Stephanie." He felt a blush begin to rise as he thought, _Did I just make a joke? Am I flirting?_

She laughed. Then, somehow, as she pulled back her hand, Stephanie managed to knock over Reid's coffee.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." _Not._ "Let me get you another one."

"It's not necessary," Reid said as he retrieved the fallen cup and lid. "It was getting cold, anyway."

"Then let me get you a warm one. Come on, I insist."

Reid was acutely aware of the stares of the kids surrounding them, and especially that of the teen-aged Gary. He swept his gaze across them, catching Gary's wink as he did so. Not knowing how to make a gracious exit from the situation, he acquiesced.

"All right. The coffee shop's just a block down and around the corner."

"Oh, I know that one! They've got a great pumpkin latte, in season."

"I pretty much just stick to the plain stuff. JJ says I put enough sugar in it that I wouldn't be able to taste anything else anyway." Reid waved a goodbye to Gary and the others as he headed off with Stephanie.

"Who's JJ?"

"She's my best friend. We work together."

"Oh." _I thought Penelope Garcia was your best friend_. She let a few more steps go by before asking, "What kind of work do you do?"

This was often a conversation killer, left in the hands of Spencer Reid. Morgan could make it sound exciting and impressive. But Reid was in the habit of prosaically reciting their tasks…..reading files, reviewing case reports, visiting the morgue….to the point where the listener began squirming within only a few minutes. This time, he decided to use Derek Morgan as his role model.

"I work for the FBI, in the Behavioral Analysis Unit. We hunt serial killers."

Her eyes widened. "Serial killers? That sounds pretty dangerous." Wishing she'd pinned Penelope Garcia down a bit more on exactly what their unit did.

The first borrowed line seeming to have worked pretty well, Reid again reached for a 'Morganism'.

"It can be. But somebody has to do it."

"You're not saying we have serial killers here in DC, are you?"

They did, but Reid could tell that she wasn't ready to hear that. "Oh, no. We consult all over the country, wherever they need us."

"Oh. You travel a lot, then?"

"Quite a bit, yes. We never know when we'll be called out, so we all carry a 'go bag' with us all the time."

They'd arrived at the coffee shop. Reid held the door for Stephanie, who preceded him to the counter.

"What was it that I dumped?"

"Just a regular black coffee. They always let me fix it myself."

"Ah, you're a 'regular' yourself, are you?"

He enjoyed the play on words. "Pretty much every day. Well, every day that we're in town. But, really, you don't have to. Let me get it."

"Oh, no, Dr. Reid. I think there's a rule about that. Whoever spills, pays."

"Well…all right, if you insist." Reid had eyed something at the next counter that would allow him to reciprocate. "I'll just go and get us a table."

Which he did, but only after procuring one of the shop's large specialty cookies first. Stephanie was too busy with their order to notice his purchase. He waved her over when he saw her turn from the cashier a few minutes later.

"Thanks," he said, as she handed him the cup. "I stopped at the condiment bar already." He indicated a mountain of packets in front of him.

"And somewhere else as well, I see. That looks yummy."

"They're known for them. The best oatmeal cookies in DC."

As she broke off a bit of the cookie, Reid proceeded to add cream and reams of sugar to his drink. Stephanie couldn't take her eyes off the preparation.

"Are you sure you want to put all of that in there?"

Reid stopped mid-pour. He'd forgotten how odd his coffee ministrations could seem to the uninitiated.

"Oh. Yeah, I've got a sweet tooth, I guess. JJ says I'm addicted to sugar more than I am to coffee."

Stephanie tried not to laugh. "Well, I guess you and I only share a partial addiction, then. It's definitely the coffee for me. I can't get my day started without it."

Until this point in their encounter, Reid had been looking at her only from an angle, and then only when he was bold enough to look at her at all. But now they were seated across a table for two, and he couldn't help but study her.

Stephanie Rowe was attractive. Not traditionally beautiful, but her smile made her appear so. Her hair was just past shoulder length, a shade or two darker than his, with a fine mixture of both lighter and darker streaks. Her eyes were green, with flecks of brown sparkling from the iris, especially when the light hit them just so. More remarkable than that was the intelligence that shone from them. It was there all the time.

Reid reminded himself to speak. "So, you're a music teacher?"

She chuckled. "No…not really. That's more my avocation. I play cello for the National Symphony Orchestra. But the NSO has a program where those of us who want to can go into some of the city schools and teach some of the kids. That's where I met Gary, and the younger boys. Gary is pretty gifted….I'm kind of sad to hear he laid it down."

"He's pretty gifted at chess, too. Did you know there's a neurobiological relationship between music and the mathematical sciences?"

Stephanie's mouth fell open. She wondered if she'd spaced, and missed the transition statements. She wasn't quite sure how or when the conversation had gotten away from her…but it obviously had. Recovering quickly, she replied, "No….no, I didn't. But…were we talking about that?"

Too late, Reid realized he'd gone tangential. "Sorry. I was just thinking that chess is an analytical game, and that led me to math. Which led me to the fact that math and music are known to utilize the same parts of our brains."

"No need to apologize, I just wanted to make sure I was following. You know, you're right. It makes sense, I guess. Music is physics, after all."

Reid's eyes widened in a moment of connection. No one…not even JJ…..not even _Emily_ ….had understood that, until he'd explained it to them, at length.

"Exactly!" After a second of recovery, he added, "How did you know that?"

"Are you kidding? I've had years of music theory. How could I not know it?"

"Well, a lot of people don't, but I guess they're not musicians." Remembering what had gotten them to that point in the conversation, Reid said, "So….Gary?"

"He's a great kid, isn't he? But I worry about him. He was in one of the toughest schools in DC, and it seemed like learning the cello was keeping him out of trouble. Now he's at the age when a lot of kids are more influenced by their peers than anyone or anything else. Some of them start making bad decisions. It's just...well, hearing that he's moved away from the cello, I'm a little worried that he'll start hanging around with the wrong crowd, and get himself into trouble."

Reid assured her. "Well, I'm not so sure he'll find many ways to get in trouble with the chess crowd." Garnering a laugh from her. "And I think I know why he had to give up the music. He mentioned that he's been trying to help out his family, so he got an after school job."

"Oh. I'm sorry if they're having financial trouble, but what a relief that's the reason."

"If it's any consolation, I think he's got his head screwed on straight. When you arrived, we were going through a couple of games so I could teach him how to lose."

"What?"

Reid explained how Gary was trying to learn the best way to teach the younger kids. "So he's trying to get them to beat him, and show them the moves in the process."

Stephanie gave a mock sniffle. "You know, I think I love that kid."

Reid smiled in joint admiration. "He's great. There are a lot of good kids in that group."

"I'll bet you see a completely different side of society, in your line of work."

Reid was noncommittal. "It's true, we see people who've become completely lost. Some are just like you were worried Gary would become….they get involved with the wrong people, make bad decisions, and end up committing heinous crimes. But most are just people dealing with mental illness, or horrendous life circumstances that they weren't equipped to handle. They do terrible things, but they do them as a result of their illness. It's hard to say they're terrible people."

Stephanie stirred her coffee while she took that in. "You're pretty sympathetic towards them. How do you manage that? I mean…they've killed people, haven't they? How do you sympathize with them?"

He corrected her. "I empathize. I wouldn't do what they do, and I know they _could_ have chosen a different path. But I also see their illness, and I understand that _they_ didn't realize they had a choice."

She shook her head. "Wow. Does your whole team feel the way you do?"

Reid finessed his response. "We all understand what happens. Some of us are better at empathizing than others."

She leaned forward now, intrigued. "What makes you so good at it?"

However inadvertently, she'd approached a topic that Reid wasn't about to share with someone he'd just met under an hour ago. His early life, his mother's illness, his close personal encounters with evil, were all too intimate to share. Not now. Maybe not ever. Not that he expected there would be another opportunity to do so. He deflected, and redirected the conversation.

"Actually, I'm interested in hearing more about what you do. Are you primarily at the Kennedy Center?"

The only indication that she realized what he'd done was a quick squint of her eyes as she answered him.

"Yes, primarily. We do a little traveling, but even that is mostly local."

"I've probably heard you play a bunch of times, then. How long have you been with them?"

She looked away, calculating. "I've been with them for four years now. Before that, I was with a smaller city orchestra. Had to earn my chops, so to speak. And then I tried out for NSO, and was lucky enough to make it. I'm the 'unofficial' first cello."

"Unofficial?"

"Technically, it's only a term used for the violin. But I first chair the cello section."

"That's pretty impressive, first cello. I'd love to hear you play some time." Realizing the contradiction with what he'd said before, Reid added, "I mean…just you. I'd like to hear just the cello. It's one of my favorite instruments."

She was intrigued. Not everyone had a favorite instrument. "Do you play? Anything?"

He made light of it. "I picked up the keyboard a couple of years ago. We had a case, and I connected with one of the witnesses through the piano…and it got me interested."

Stephanie shook her head in confusion. "Explain, please."

Reid laughed at himself. "Okay, I guess that was too much of a synopsis." He went on to tell her the story of the autistic Sammy, and how they'd connected over a particular passage of music, concluding with, "And I realized that it was all just math….well, and physics, sure…but all built on mathematical constructs. Which is one of my areas of strength. So I thought I would try it."

He'd gotten visibly more enthused as he'd told the story, making her smile. "So, do you still play?"

He didn't even try to filter his enthusiasm. "Oh, yes. It's therapeutic." Then was immediately worried that he'd appeared too much in need of such therapy.

No worries from Stephanie's end. "Oh, you're right about that. If I didn't have my music, I would have long since become a basket case."

He'd turned to his keyboard after the loss of Maeve, trying hard to work the grief out through his fingers. Hearing Stephanie, just now, Reid recognized something in her tone. It told him that she was acquainted with loss as well. But he had absolutely no intention of bringing it up in conversation.

"So, have you played for the rich and famous?" His attempt to lighten their exchange.

She went along with him. Apparently it had gotten too serious, too quickly, for her as well.

"You name them, they've been there. Not that I've met them, mind you. That's left to our conductor."

Reid studied her. "And yet, it doesn't bother you. I can tell," he said, putting a finger to his temple, "Profiler."

She laughed. "I think I'd like to get to know you better, Spencer Reid. I've never met a full-fledged profiler before."

Had she just asked him out on a date? Reid made a frantic internal search for the appropriate Morgan response. None was forthcoming, forcing him to rely on himself.

"I'd….I think I'd like that too."

"So, what do you say? Next week, same time, same place?"

"The park, or here?"

"Here. We don't want little tongues wagging now, do we?"

"I guess not. Okay." A thought struck him. "Oh! Provided we're in town, that is. We should be though…."

He'd cut himself off, realizing he'd almost slipped and told her he knew they'd be in town because they were researching local terrorist activities. _Way to kill a date, Reid._

She either didn't notice, or pretended not to. "Okay, provided you're in town. Should we exchange numbers, just in case?"

He'd literally never gotten a girl's number before. Not outside of work, anyway. The closest he'd come was having the pager number for Maeve. Now, this talented young woman was giving him access to her personal phone, all of her own accord. Reid started to fantasize about how he would let it slip to Morgan, when he suddenly realized that he didn't want to.

Maeve's situation had demanded secrecy from the beginning. This one did not. And yet... He began to realize why JJ hadn't shared about Will, and why Morgan, so long the 'player' who would kiss and tell after every date, had been so silent about Savannah for so long.

_It's not for sharing. It's for nurturing, to see if anything grows. And now it's my turn.  
_


	17. Chapter 17

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 17**

"Hey, Spence, did Hotch say why they wanted us to start out here today?" A Sunday night text had told them all to meet at the BAU on Monday morning.

JJ dropped her bag on her desk, intending to get some coffee before attempting any real work.

"I think Hirsch is coming to meet with us again. It was easier for him if we were all in one place."

"Oh. So, how was your weekend?"

"Fine. Yours?"

"Busy. Did you get the picture I texted?"

"Ha! Yes, I did. He looks pretty impressed with himself."

She laughed. "Oh, you should have seen him, Spence. I helped him get into the uniform, and then he started marching around the house saluting everything!"

Reid smiled. "That's my little man. A born scout, if ever I saw one."

"Well, we'll find out in a couple of weeks. His troop is supposed to have an overnight at one of the Boy Scout camps." She sounded worried.

"Will is going with him, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"So, there's nothing to worry about. Was Will a scout too?"

She shook her head. "Uh-uh. In Louisiana, 'they train boys to be men in the bayou'." Doing her best imitation of her husband's drawl.

He laughed at her attempt, then expressed his curiosity. "What does that mean, exactly?"

"Will's dad took him camping and hunting from a very early age. I guess that was the norm down there. Will is proud to have actually killed his first deer at eight."

Reid studied his friend, having sensed a level of unease in her voice. "Does that bother you?"

She had to think for a moment, trying to sort out what she was feeling inside. "No….I guess not. Not for Will, anyway. It was just a way of life for him. But the thought of Henry shooting at a defenseless animal, just two years from now….yes, that bothers me."

"Well, unless Will decides to take him hunting, you don't have anything to worry about. Scouts only aim at inanimate targets."

JJ looked away in introspection. "You know, it sounds crazy, considering what his father and I do for a living….and considering we both carry weapons every day….but I don't really like the idea of Henry taking aim at _anything_ , whether or not it's alive. It's just….. he's my little boy. I still think of him as being…I don't know…pure, maybe? And that seems anything but."

He tried to assure her. "He'll be okay, JJ. Scouting just gives him skills. It doesn't change who he is."

She mock-sniffled, belittling her emotional reaction. "I know. Just ignore me. Who in their right mind would actually be worried about their kid becoming a Boy Scout?"

They shared a laugh about that before she started for the coffee bay. "Want me to get you another cup?"

"Sure."

She headed off and started to prepare the coffees when she was interrupted by the arrival of Penelope Garcia.

"So?"

"Hi, Pen. 'So'...what?"

"So, did he meet her?"

JJ gasped. "Oh, my God….I forgot!"

"Forgot what?"

"It was such a crazy morning, Henry was a bear getting out of the house…I just had a whole conversation with Spence, and I didn't think to ask!" Giving it a bit more thought. "Not that I _could_ ask. Right? I mean, what would I say?"

"Well, maybe he would just tell you. He talks to you, doesn't he?" They both knew Garcia was referencing their deeper level of exchange.

"I already asked him how his weekend was, and all he said was 'Fine'. What do we do with that?"

Garcia began to analyze the word. "Well, 'fine' could mean 'okay, I read some books and did my laundry'….or it could mean 'great, I met this amazing woman and I'm in love'. Couldn't it?" She was having trouble ignoring the skeptical look on JJ's face.

"All I know is that he said, 'Fine.'" After a moment of thought, she concluded, "You're going to have to ask him."

"Me? Jayje, if he didn't tell you, what makes you think he'll tell me?"

"He talks to you! He tells you lots of things. C'mon, Pen. Just ask him."

Nearly convinced, Garcia started to turn, but swiveled back around. "What if they didn't meet? Or, worse, what if he just doesn't want to tell anyone?"

Either scenario was possible. How could they tell which it was?

Garcia started to answer her own question. "I guess I could call her…"

JJ's reaction was instinctive, and immediate. "No….no, don't do that. Let him tell us if he wants to. He didn't get to keep his privacy with Maeve. I think we should let him keep it now."

About to protest, Garcia stopped herself when she recognized the gravity in JJ's tone. "Oh. Yeah, I guess you're right. But, oh, Jayje, I think it just might kill me not to know."

"Give it a go, then. Ask him about his weekend. But don't push, all right?"

"Moi? Never."

* * *

Garcia's exchange with Reid hadn't gone any better. The technical analyst was trying to think of a fourth way to ask about his weekend when Hotch and Rossi preceded Sid Hirsch into the round table room.

"Morning, everyone. As you know, Agent Hirsch asked that we convene here today before resuming our aspects of the investigation."

Wary glances were exchanged all around the table.

"Did something happen?" Reid asked it for all of them.

"Yes…and no," replied Hirsch cryptically.

"Care to expound?" asked the sardonic Rossi.

Hirsch appeared to consider his words for a moment. "We're concerned that we may have underestimated the immediacy of the threat." Falling back to agency-speak.

"And that means…?" Morgan's impatience was evident.

"It means that Dr. Reid may have been right to worry about the increase in chatter in recent weeks. It has happened before, as I've said. But our analysts feel that there is a new degree of urgency to the exchanges now."

Kate was almost afraid to ask. "How urgent?"

"It could be anything from a few days to a few months. But they think it's only 'days' to 'weeks'."

Each of them took time to absorb that. They knew that Washington, DC was only one of five possible targets...and it would have been devastating to have anywhere in the US successfully attacked… but this one, as the 2001 attacks had succeeded in doing, might hit close to home.

Morgan emerged first. "All right. What does that change?" He directed his words toward his teammates.

JJ spoke first. "It makes our task…", gesturing between herself and Hotch, "move away from focusing on the new recruits, and points us at the current set."

Reid wasn't so sure about that. "Didn't you say you were learning something about who the new recruits might be? The disenfranchised, the throwaway kids? It might be exactly those kids, especially the ones who haven't been in their system long enough to start to question things, who might be recruited for an attack. Those kids might make the perfect suicide bombers."

Even as he spoke, he thought of Gary, and all of the other chess kids from the park. He thought of Stephanie, and her efforts to teach them the enchantment of music. _She doesn't even realize it_ , he thought, _but she's fighting terrorism every day_.

Hotch agreed with Reid. "He's right, we need to stay on it. But I think we need to narrow in on those who are local to us, whether potential recruits or already in the pipeline. Whether or not DC is a primary target, we need to start getting some direct contact with these individuals."

There were nods all around the table. No one knew better than the BAU team that remote profiling could only take them so far. They were accustomed to reexamining and revising their profiles based on real time information gained from interrogations.

"Are you saying you want to bring some of these guys in?" asked Hirsch. His tone suggested that he didn't think it was wise.

Hotch understood. "We're aware we can't risk the good work of the intelligence community, so, of course, we'll work within whatever parameters are necessary. Even an interview with someone who's exited the pipeline would be helpful to us. And, you should know, both Agent Morgan and Agent Callahan have extensive undercover experience."

Hirsch frowned. "You're not suggesting we have them infiltrate the network?"

"No, I'm not. But they are very capable of approaching family, friends, known associates….maybe even the potential recruits….without being found out. It's very possible we'll learn something invaluable."

Hirsch was still uncertain. "I'll have to discuss it with the associate director and get back to you."

Hotch decided to push a little more. "If we move in that direction, we'll need to consolidate our efforts. With two agents in the field, it will be better if the rest of us can work together."

This had already been discussed within DHS. "I did get permission to move some of the paper files. We can bring the existing new recruit information over, so at least two of your groups can co-locate."

"What about Reid?" Without his resident genius on hand, Hotch felt the team's work would be diminished.

"That's a no-go, I'm afraid. All new intelligence remains in the downtown building." Seeing Rossi about to speak, Hirsch headed him off. "And, no, we can't move the rest of you downtown. Sorry. That's not an intelligence decision. There's simply no room at the inn."

It wasn't optimal, but they would have to go with it. As Hirsch left to discuss the BAU proposals with his superiors, Hotch looked around at his team. He was proud that none looked angry or disappointed at having to wait for permission to do what they did best.

"All right. I know it's not ideal, but we'll have to accommodate. Assuming DHS will see the light, JJ, I'm sending you with Reid today. Kate, you'll be with Morgan, Dave and myself at the uptown building. If you and Morgan are given permission to work the field, Dave and I will stay with the files. We'll conference in if we need to."

Reid spoke up. "Cell service was pretty unreliable where we were. I think they do some jamming from the building, and I think we were close to the device."

"Yeah," agreed Kate, "I had to actually go outside to make a call on Friday."

Hotch nodded his understanding. "If we can't reach you directly, we'll call into the office on a land line."

"And me, sir?" Garcia tried to make her voice sound meek, but failed. It was clear to all of them that she was still anxious to try hacking DHS. Hotch tried to restrain a smile at the glint in her eye.

"Finish looking at the parameters we've given you about the potentials. If nothing else comes up….have at it."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, Sir!" She rubbed her hands together in gleeful anticipation.

Morgan shook his head at her in mock disgust. "You need to rein that in, Baby Girl. If they think you're enjoying it too much, they'll be coming after you."

"Ha! Derek Morgan, you should know by now….. if I get into their system, they'll only know about it if I want them to."

* * *

The trip over to downtown began in deep silence, each caught up in the gravity of the situation. Before Hirsch's announcement that something might be imminent, JJ had been entertaining ways of engaging Spence in various conversation topics that she thought might lend themselves to a casual mention of having met someone over the weekend. But the morning meeting had changed that completely. Playing matchmaker seemed a trivial pursuit when faced with the very real possibility of mass death and destruction.

Reid decided to break the silence.

"You okay? You've been awfully quiet."

"So have you."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess. It's just that… I was thinking…I don't know how they lived with it."

"Who? With what?"

"Back before 9/11. We found out later, didn't we, that there were a lot of people in the intelligence community who knew something was going to happen, even if they didn't know exactly when. There were even some who came up with the right general scenario, but it seemed too far out to be believed."

She'd read about it as well. "That, or they were too far down the chain, and couldn't get their information to where it needed to go."

"Exactly. I don't know how they lived with it. That they might have been able to prevent it, and saved all those lives."

She nodded, understanding. "And all the lives that were lost in the war that followed it. I don't know, Spence. Maybe it was inevitable. Maybe we can't prevent all of it. Maybe we can't prevent _any_ of it. I just know I don't want my family living in a world without someone trying to make it safe."

He looked over and smiled at her _. Ferocious Mother Bear JJ turned antiterrorist...a force to be reckoned with_. But he understood, because he shared her sentiment.

She heard what he hadn't said, and returned a slightly embarrassed grin. But then she got very serious.

"I'm thinking about sending Henry to stay with my Mom for a while, in Pennsylvania."

He flashed her a look of surprise. "You are? Really?"

"How can I know that we might be targeted for an attack, and not try to keep him safe from it? It's just like before.. …with the anthrax. Hotch said it wasn't fair to warn our own families when we couldn't do the same for everyone. What does 'fair' have to do with it? This is my _family_. It's _Henry_."

He could hear the rising emotion in her voice, and tried to defuse it.

"I didn't know he'd said that...I was kind of busy at the time."

"Oh, Spence, please don't joke about that. You scared me to death. Really."

"To tell you the truth, I was a little scared myself. But if you really want to imagine something scary, try picturing yourself waking up to the image of Derek Morgan sitting at your bedside and eating jello."

He got the laugh he was hoping for. "Yeah, well…. you scared the big guy, too." She got back to their original subject matter. "I guess I can understand that there would be mass panic if word got out to everyone. And I know that might cause more people to be hurt, or even killed, for something that might only be an educated guess. But…how can I know it, and put Henry at risk? It would be one thing not to know….but to know, and still let him be at risk? I don't think I can do it. Not again."

"I guess I understand. And, if it comes down to it, and you really want it to happen, I'll help you. I love him, too. But, he's in school now. It would disrupt his learning, and his routine. It would separate him from his friends. And, what if this threat was ended somehow? What if another one came along? Would you move him again?"

She threw up her hands. "I know, I know. I know it doesn't make sense. But I just…. I know how I feel. There have probably been a thousand threats that I didn't know about, and couldn't have protected him from. But this one…this one, I can."

He gave her a quick sideways glance in support. " _We_ can."

* * *

Cell service was unreliable, so Reid made a point of calling Hotch when he went out for a coffee run.

"Remind me never to take a job with DHS, JJ. The coffee in their lounge is, hands down, the worst I've ever tasted. And, as you well know, I can drink anything."

She laughed as he left for the elevator. _Thank God for bad coffee. At least we know DHS isn't attractive to him, even if he's attractive to them._

When he returned, he had news. "They've given permission for Morgan and Kate to infiltrate the social circles of some of the targets. Kate will go into one of the high schools, and Morgan to a youth center."

"Aren't the targets the disconnected kids? Are they likely to be in either place?"

He acknowledged her point. "True, they may not be there all the time. But a lot of street kids get meals and showers at youth centers. Morgan will be able to tell who they are. Kate will find the outsiders at school."

"What about the interviews?"

"Also on. Hotch and Rossi will talk with two guys who were in the network, but were turned."

"How sure are they that they're really turned? What if they're just trying to plant false information?"

"All the more reason for them to meet the BAU."

"True enough." She opened the lid on her coffee. "All right, want me to keep listening to the English recordings?"

They'd split their duties today. Reid, having finished his language tapes, had been listening to the original recordings in Arabic, comparing his own translations with the written ones provided by DHS. He was preparing to sample some of the Urdu recordings now.

"Sounds good. Then, I think I need to listen to some of the English with you. There's something….. I can't quite put my finger on it…but there's something. Maybe you can help me figure it out."

She doubted that, but wasn't going to say so.

"Okay. Or…here's an idea. Why don't I take all the written transcripts…the ones you're done with… and try to organize them by theme. They're already catalogued by date, but maybe there's something to be learned about which languages are sharing a common theme to the conversations."

"My guess is that DHS might already have that, but they would have looked at it from an intelligence point of view. We need to look at it as a profile. It's a good idea, JJ. Go ahead."

It felt a little like the old days, before she'd begun spending so much time in the field. Unraveling a mystery, finding a foothold from which to approach a case. They each felt it in the same moment. JJ raised a palm to Reid, who responded in kind.

"Teamwork," they high-fived.


	18. Chapter 18

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 18**

The fallout from potentially sending Henry away for the duration was driven home to JJ when she had to approach Hotch before their Wednesday afternoon gathering.

"It's just a little concert, but it's at ten o'clock. Do you think there's any chance…."

"Call it an early lunch. I'm sure Reid can handle a couple of hours on his own."

And then some. "Thanks, Hotch. I didn't want to presume, but…"

"Understood," was all the taciturn unit chief had to say. Aloud.

He wasn't about to share it with his team, but Hotch was having pretty much the same internal debate that JJ was. Except that he didn't really have anywhere to send Jack. Jessica was local to the area, so he'd either have to convince both of them to take an extended, unexplained, middle-of-the-school year vacation, or he'd have to remain silent and hope for the best. _Not 'hope'_ , he corrected himself. _I need to 'work' for the best. We all do._

The first time he'd been confronted with a known terrorist threat, when there had been a plot to blow up a local suburban shopping mall, his family had still been intact. And yet, he'd been the follower of rules, the steadfast, loyal agent who placed his trust in the bureau and prioritized its work. He'd kept his silence from them then, but only because of a dropped cell call during a momentary lapse in resolve.

By the next time it had happened, when the anthrax had been released in that park in Maryland, his family had already been already in pieces. But Jack and Hayley had both still been alive. He'd been able to rationalize his compliance with the order of silence that time by telling himself….and JJ, he well recalled….that it wouldn't be fair if they were able to save those they loved while putting others at risk. Even as he'd said it, he'd made his own argument back to himself. He knew he would have been able to get Hayley to leave without telling her why, without his breaking his oath. By then, Hayley would have been able to read between the lines, and simply followed his direction without question.

But then the lone terrorist, with his own personal vendetta and single target, had come into their lives, and erased Hayley's. Foyet, the Reaper, had accomplished more than a subversive cell using explosives, or a madman using a biological. He'd terrorized the Hotchner family, and forever changed how Aaron Hotchner viewed the world.

Aaron Hotchner had become, paradoxically, both more austere and more relaxed. His austerity pervaded nearly all of his relationships, including those with the team, sparing only Jack and, to a lesser degree, Jessica. He was, for so many years, stern, and humorless. Until recently, he'd partaken in little of the team's social life.

But he'd relaxed the rules. He'd broken any number of proscriptions about dealing with unsubs and handling victims, with whom he now identified so much more deeply. He trod on protocol whenever it inserted itself between him and his prey. He prioritized things differently, in both his work and his private lives.

Post-Reaper Aaron Hotchner wouldn't quote false standards of fairness to a team member in distress. He would encourage JJ to keep those she loved safe. He would do the same for all of them. But he also knew that the best way to do that was to solve the problem. Find the terrorists. Subvert the terror.

He headed for the round table room to learn how much progress his team had made in that effort.

* * *

"Don't worry your pretty little head, there, Baby Girl. I'm fine. These guys are good. They're actually looking out for the kids. I don't think there's a Carl Buford among them."

Garcia had been worried that Morgan's light undercover work at the youth center would bring back memories of his abuse at the hands of a Chicago youth center's director, many years ago. But Morgan was reassuring.

"They actually have systems in place now. No one's ever supposed to be alone with a kid behind a closed door. Every kid is told to expect no overnights with staff, and that they will never visit a staff member's home. Then they're told to report any staff member who tries to get around the rules."

Rossi had arrived in time to hear most of Morgan's words. He shook his head as he pulled out a chair.

"Ah, mentoring in the new millennium, inspiration given at arm's length. It's a wonder any of these kids make it at all. Most of them are alienated at home, and then our new rules don't allow them to get close to anyone else."

Kate swung into the seat next to him. "It's how it has to be, Dave. Believe me, there are more perverts out there…..and most of them look like completely straight arrows. And the things they do to kids…." She shivered. "Let's just say I came to the BAU to get my nightmares to lighten up."

Reid had been at the table before the rest, and taken in the whole exchange. What they were saying made him wonder.

"If it's true that there are more safeguards in place, maybe the youth center isn't where they're being approached. But where else do you hunt for a vulnerable kid?"

Morgan assured him. "I said there were policies in place, Pretty Boy. I didn't say they were being followed. And my radar is pretty good for pedophiles. I really don't think we're dealing with that here. But that's not to say we don't have anyone recruiting 'for the cause'." Making finger quotes.

Hotch and JJ entered and took their seats, signaling the formal start of the meeting. Following up on Morgan's last statement, Hotch asked him about his progress, and what approach he planned to take.

"It's only been two days, so I can't be sure who the regulars are among the homeless. My guess is they only show up a couple of times a week, grab a shower and some hot food, and then hit the streets again. Any more often, and they'd risk a social worker thinking they were ready to come in."

"So, you won't know who might be targeted….or even if _anyone_ is being targeted…for a couple of weeks, it sounds like," observed JJ. "From what we heard the other day, I don't know that we have that kind of time."

"It's not all bad," assured Morgan. "It's true I won't see the kids often enough for a few weeks ..…but I can observe the staff. There's already one who's got my attention. He splits his hours so he can be there for the morning shift, leaves for the afternoon, and then comes in for the evening as well. Most of these street kids get rousted when the shop owners start opening up for the day, so that's when they come in to get cleaned up and have some breakfast. After that, they're on the streets all day, but some will come in for a hot meal at night. Some of them even stay for a support group meeting."

"What kind of support group do they run?" Garcia was curious.

"AA, NA, Alateen, abuse survivors…..you name it, they run it."

Kate spoke up. "When I was undercover, I probably met hundreds of kids who could have used those groups. This sounds like a pretty good organization, Derek. How sure are we that they're corrupted?"

Instead of answering directly, he nodded toward their tech analyst. "Garcia will tell you."

The blonde nodded. "Morgan and Rossi gave me names of locals who were known recruits, and Hotch and JJ gave me names of local kids known to be in the recruitment pipeline. The center is one of two in the area that serve the neighborhoods these kids tended to frequent. We know that at least two of them were clients at this particular center."

Kate absorbed it for a moment. "So, we can't be sure, but we've got great reason to be suspicious. I'm pretty sure the school I'm at is in one of the neighborhoods served by your center. Same thing there…lots of really good, dedicated teachers, lots of good kids, but also a lot of troubled ones. Sometimes I wonder how some of these kids can come from virtually the same backgrounds, and one turns, but one holds on."

They all agreed. They'd all seen it, over and over again. Neighbors, even siblings, with similar stressors, yet one devolves into serial killing, while the others manage to live, for the most part, on the right side of moral and civil law.

"It's as though they're born with some inner resilience," offered Reid.

JJ caught his eye and smiled, knowing he was thinking of his own past. If any among them had needed resilience to emerge from childhood, it had been Spencer Reid. 

_And I'm so glad you had it, Spence._

Kate agreed with her colleague. "I think that's probably true. But I also think some of them are just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, to get help." When she saw looks of curiosity on the faces of the others, she explained. "There's this program at the school where they bring in experts from various companies and government offices. It's sort of a mentoring thing, and sort of an actual opportunity to learn something. The FBI even sends agents there. Do any of you know about it?"

Negative gestures all around the table. "Me neither. But I think I'm going to look into it when I'm through with this case."

Reid, remembering Gary and the other kids at the park, many of whom lived in the neighborhoods in question, felt a tug in the same direction. "If you get more information on it, pass it on. I think I might like to get involved as well."

JJ studied her friend from across the table. This was the first proactive hint of engagement she'd heard from him since the death of Maeve. 

_Maybe you're finally on the mend. I hope so._

Kate replied to Reid, "Well, I already know that our colleagues usually come in and give a presentation on what they do in the Bureau, and some of them will give a little demonstration of how an investigation works. They also bring the kids on field trips over to the Hoover Building."

Rossi wasn't impressed. "These kids sit in class all day. The last thing they need is 'FBI 101'. They should take them to the training academy, put them through the obstacle course."

The usually dour Aaron Hotchner couldn't restrain a chuckle at his good friend's expense. "Okay, Dave, you're on. When this case is over, I will personally escort you and a group of school kids to the obstacle course."

They all laughed at the image, at the same time that each took note of the phrasing that both Hotch and Kate had used. ' _When this case is over'_. Considering the nature of the case, and the potential consequences of failing to solve it, the words carried special meaning.

Kate took her new senior colleague off the hook. "I know what you mean, Rossi. One of the best programs they've got is this one where members of the National Symphony Orchestra come in and teach music to the kids. Some of them even give lessons on some of the instruments."

Her words drew unexpected reactions from several around the table. Garcia and JJ threw sudden looks of surprise in each other's directions, making them too busy to see Reid's brows go up as well. Stephanie's friends had said she played for the NSO, and her profile had said something about her loving to teach kids about music.

Morgan noticed all three of them. "What? Did I miss something?"

Reid, apparently thinking the remark was aimed only at him, answered, "It's just that…" he seemed to consider his words for a moment, then went on, "…..some of the kids I play chess with at the park take lessons like that. Cello, mostly."

JJ had to chew on her lips to keep from smiling, and purposely avoided any further eye contact with Garcia.

_It had to be her! He had to have met her…..right? It's too much of a coincidence…_ _But he's obviously not willing to say. I wonder why?_

"Oh," said Kate, "I'll bet that's her! I didn't meet her, but they said the cellist from the NSO comes to their school. I'm planning to keep an eye out. I want to know if she's got any students who might want to pair up with Meg. I told you she's really good with the flute, and there's such a natural pairing between the flute and the cello, and…."

"Ahem." Hotch cleared his throat, effectively ending the team's digression. "Can we get back to our investigation?"

Kate tried hard to look chastised, but only succeeded in looking bemused. "Sorry."

Hotch encouraged her to summarize the pertinent parts of her experience at the school.

"They put me in as a substitute for study hall, and then I had the privilege of supervising detention. Only the principal knows I'm FBI, but she seems to be pretty hands-on, and was able to give me a little background on the kids who seem to be outsiders."

Reid interrupted with a word of caution. "I know we profiled that the younger recruits would come from the fringes, but I think we need to remember that there's still an effort to recruit from the disenchanted intellectual community. They may travel in different circles, but will still be in the schools."

Hotch agreed with his resident genius. "I think you should watch for adults who have more frequent or intense contacts with your outcasts, but Reid is correct. Some of the recruitment threat may come from within the student body, from those already recruited. So you'll need to take note of frequent interactions between a given socialized student, and the outcasts."

" _Supportive_ interactions," corrected Reid.

"What do you mean?" Kate was feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"I mean that it's not unusual for the popular kids to interact with the unpopular. But they're usually doing it just to bait them. You should be on the lookout for the popular kid who's not doing that. You're looking for the popular kid who's befriending the outcast."

"What a world," intoned Rossi. "We're suspicious of the _good_ kids for being too good."

JJ thought they'd just presented her colleague with an insurmountable task. "So, pretty much, we're telling Kate to look at _everyone_ , and to be suspicious of both their good and bad behaviors. _That_ won't be difficult." Her sarcasm was obvious.

Silence around the table acknowledged the challenge. Kate made the best of it with a shrug.

"I worked with the kids on the margins quite a bit before I came to the BAU. It gave me a sixth sense about who was vulnerable and who was not. This can't be all that different. It's the same kids, just with a different kind of predator."

Hotch's nod signaled his approval of her accepting her task before he moved the conversation on. "Reid, anything?"

The young man sat forward from his long-legged slouch, looking troubled.

"There's something….I can feel it. There's something in the messages….well, besides the actual message. It's been trying to break through all week." He tapped his head, indicating the location where the breakthrough refused to take place. "So, today, JJ and I read them aloud in chronological order, mixing in all three languages. There was something, but…." He shook his head in frustration.

JJ explained to the others. "Spence is looking for similarities among them. He thinks there are only one or two authors to all of them, but he's looking for something more. Today, we tried reading through with the inflections that came from the oral messages, and tried to apply them to the ones that were only intercepted in written form…."

Reid took it back up. "I was looking for similarities in wording, or syntax, or even the use of parallel idioms. There are some, which is what makes me think we're looking at limited authorship, but….," he shook his head again, "I can't quite put my finger on it."

"What's your plan for tomorrow?" asked his unit chief, trusting that Reid would have one.

"We're going to try to translate each one into the other two languages, see if that gets us anywhere."

JJ corrected him. " _Spence_ is going to translate. I'm going to transcribe and sort."

Hotch was satisfied. "All right. Everyone, get some rest. You'll go right to your assignments in the morning, and we'll meet here again in the afternoon."

* * *

Garcia and JJ stole a few moments together in the technical room before departing for the night.

"Did you hear what Kate said, Jayje? That must have been Stephanie at the school!"

"Forget what Kate said, Pen. Did you hear what _Spence_ said? He knows the kids at the park are learning the cello. He's never told me that before. It has to mean that he's met Stephanie!"

Garcia wasn't so sure. "If he had, why wouldn't he have said so? It would have been natural, wouldn't it? And maybe you never heard about it before because it never came up in conversation."

JJ was still convinced that Reid must have met his 'datemybestfrienddotcom' match. But she was also struck silent by something Garcia had just said.

It was entirely possible that Reid had known all along that his 'chess kids' were learning the cello without having shared the information with her. It wasn't like him to bring anything from his private life up in casual conversation….and, for too long a time now, it had been unlike her to elicit it. It wasn't just their brief alienation that had contributed to this. It was that her own private life had simply gotten too busy, and she'd become too consumed with it to delve into the details of the lives of others.

_Even Spence's_.

And she vowed, that minute, to change that situation.

* * *

They'd broken up late, and Reid doubted that he'd find any of the kids still in the park in the deepening twilight. But he decided to take the detour anyway, feeling the need to stretch his legs after a long day of sitting. Not that he would have known what to do if he'd run into anyone.

_It must be the school Gary goes to, unless she teaches at more than one. So it sounds like Kate will be meeting Stephanie. But I can't tell Stephanie that I know Kate, and Kate can't tell her that she knows me. Not that Kate knows it would mean anything to her, because Kate doesn't know that we know each other. And the kids can't know that their new study sub works with me, either._

Reid wasn't at all confident in his ability to play out a ruse of 'not-knowing', if he was with any of the people in question, without it becoming a comedy of errors. The idea of meeting Stephanie for coffee on Sunday afternoon began to loom as a giant unknown, fraught with the possibility of an inadvertent revelation.

_Maybe I should cancel._

He was surprised to be struck by a wave of disappointment at the idea.


	19. Chapter 19

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 19**

"Sorry I'm late. Will had an early meeting, so I had to drive Henry to school."

"I thought he took the bus. Wasn't he all excited about it?"

She laughed at the memory. "Oh, yeah. If I'd heard one more chorus of 'The Wheels On the Bus', I think I would have gone insane."

Reid joined her in laughing. He'd been serenaded with the same song any number of times since Henry had started preschool.

"So..."

"So, it was easier and faster to drive him myself this morning. He'll get his dose of 'school bus' on his way to Karen's this afternoon."

Reid was aware that Henry went directly from school to his long-time sitter's home. But, in light of their recent team discussions about the vulnerability of young children, he was curious. And protective.

"Does he mind, JJ? That he goes to Karen's instead of coming home?"

Without meaning to, he'd touched on a sensitive area, and the look that crossed her face told him so.

"Did I say something wrong?"

She tried to shake it off. "No….no, of course not. It's just… I know he's used to Karen, he loves her. He's known her since he was a baby. It's just….it's just that it's not how I grew up, I guess."

_Not that how I grew up worked out all that well for Roz._

"But….you don't think it's bad for him, do you? I mean, he's with people who love him all the time, even if it isn't always his parents."

"I know, but…. I guess there's a certain amount of parental guilt we're all doomed to carry, no matter what, even if it doesn't make any sense."

He chided her with a smile. "Which it doesn't. So don't be worrying about it. How can it hurt Henry to know that there are any number of people who love him?"

She agreed…but there was something still niggling about it.

"So, why did you ask, then?"

"What?"

"Why did you ask about it? If you didn't think it would bother him, if you didn't think it might cause him harm….why did you ask?"

He was immediately repentant at the idea of having caused her distress.

"I didn't mean anything by it, JJ. Please don't think otherwise. I guess I just….. I was thinking about the other kids, actually. The ones being recruited. I was wondering about their home lives, and what it was that made them feel alienated, and…"

He watched as her face crumpled.

"No, JJ, please….I'm sorry, I never meant to imply that Henry was in that group. I _know_ he's not. I know he knows how much you love him. It was just that I was trying to understand why he would handle it so well, when another child wouldn't…"

His voice trailed off, as he surveyed the damage he'd inadvertently done, and the fact that his attempts to rectify weren't helping at all. Reid was chagrined, and began mentally berating himself. Somehow he'd managed a miscue with his erstwhile best friend, who, no matter how much distance had yet to close between them, was completely undeserving.

"JJ…I'm sorry."

She seemed to realize she might have overreacted, and tried to shrug it off.

"No, _I'm_ sorry. It's just….it kind of hit a nerve. But that's my problem. Not your fault, Spence."

His mouth opened to make the response that once would have come naturally to him. But she'd rebuffed his concern so many times, he'd begun to refrain from expressing it. He nearly did the same this time, until something deep within, a caring that wouldn't be denied, pushed him.

_Don't give up on her. She needs you, even if she doesn't realize it. Or won't admit it._

He tried to make it sound casual, knowing how skittish she could be about three simple words.

"Are you okay?"

She had her back to him, reaching for a file. Hearing him ask again, after so long a time…..she froze in place. Her fears, her panic, her regret, her sorrow, her confusion, her questioning of where her life was leading….they'd all been taking turns rising to the surface and being swallowed back down, for months now, the symphony of emotion threatening to reach a crescendo in the past few weeks. So many times she'd wished he would ask again, just once more.

_Just once more, and I'll tell him. I need to tell someone. And he knows me best._

Here was that moment. The 'just once more'. And she couldn't do it. Couldn't go to that place where she acknowledged her vulnerabilities and traumas. Not even with Spence at her side. It was simply too intimidating. Perversely, she battled within, half of her knowing how much she needed it, and the other half refusing to acknowledge the need.

Though she'd paused for only a second or two, Reid recognized the body language. He'd seen it in the mirror too many times in the past not to know what it represented. _That was me. Fighting to look like I didn't need to fight. Until I was knocked out by a sucker punch._

The loss of Maeve had blindsided him, depleted him of any and all internal resources, and rendered him completely incapable of anything except abject grief. _I guess I should be glad she's got something left._

He was disappointed, but not all that surprised, when she turned back around with a smile painted on her face.

"I'm fine. Just tired. Long week, I guess. And this case…"

The fact that she'd over-answered was actually progress. Until now, JJ had been able to completely cover her unrest with relative polish. But that polish was beginning to grow dull. Reid saw it, and knew what it meant. He would remain vigilant, and steadfast. But he wouldn't push her until she was completely ready.

"Yeah. The stakes are high on this one. Not that they aren't always, for someone, but…"

"But this could be much bigger than what we're used to. So many more people hurt..." She heaved a sigh, effectively changing the atmosphere between them. "So, I guess we'd better get busy."

He nodded. "All right. So, I've already translated everything in Urdu and English into Arabic, and read through chronologically. The same with the Arabic, into English and Urdu."

"And we've both read through everything translated into English."

"Right. But now, I want to take each individual message and compare all three translations at the same time."

"Hoping to find what?"

He squinted in puzzlement. "That's what I don't know. But there's something there. It's the thing I can't put my finger on, but I know…it's…right….there."

She shrugged. "Okay, then. Let's get started."

* * *

JJ stepped out at noon to call the others. They'd found their cells worked best on the first floor, near a small café, or out on the street. They'd also noticed DHS staff freely using their cells within the building, but apparently whatever secret that required was not about to be shared with the BAU.

"Hey, Morgan…anything?"

"Hey, Blondie. Yeah, maybe something. You remember me telling about the guy who split his hours? Well, Hotch and Rossi couldn't find him on the roster of known recruits, so I had Garcia do a little digging for me."

"And?"

"And, he was a product of a messed up childhood, ended up in foster care. Kept running away, so they put him in a group home, but he ran from there, too. They pretty much stopped looking for him after he turned sixteen, but Baby Girl found his name on a list of kids referred to another youth center after juvie."

"So, he was one of the kids we profiled would be at risk. Are you thinking he was recruited?"

"If he was, DHS hasn't found him out yet. But there was something else. Garcia ran a full background on him. No arrests…at least, nothing since he took cash from a laundromat at seventeen. He works only the one job, at the youth center. Lives in a studio apartment, nothing fancy."

"Doesn't sound like anything that would raise suspicion. He's living within his means."

"He is. But she also found something interesting in his credit charges. A pretty regular bill from three alternating stores, almost penny for penny."

She considered it. "Okay, I'll bite. It's not unusual to have a recurring charge, but not usually from a store. What's he buying?"

"Backpacks."

* * *

JJ returned to their conference room with sandwiches and coffee. As she cleared a space for them to eat, she recounted for Reid her conversation with Morgan.

"Backpacks?"

"Yeah. Apparently he buys five of them at a time, either of two brands. There's not an exact schedule, but it's roughly every six weeks or so."

Reid pondered it for a while. "Okay, so we know backpacks have become a mechanism of carrying explosive devices. Which, in fact, may make them a _bad_ choice for a budding terrorist. They're banned at most large public gatherings now, aren't they?"

She nodded. "They are. But they're not banned from city streets. I made a point of looking around while I was outside. There are loads of kids, probably high school or college age, carrying them all over DC."

Reid strolled over to the window and verified what she'd seen. "I count six of them on one city block. It makes you realize how vulnerable we all are."

JJ finished chewing and swallowing her bite of sandwich before responding. "It makes you realize how crazy we all make ourselves. I mean…. _backpacks_. Kids have carried them for years. Maybe he was just buying things for the kids at the center."

He started in on his own sandwich. "Is Morgan looking into that?"

She nodded. "He won't be meeting with us this afternoon. He's going to stick around through the night shift, chat some of the kids up, and notice what they're carrying. If they're the brands in question, they'll go on his list of possibles."

* * *

Reid's legs were begging to be stretched, so he volunteered to make the afternoon coffee run.

"I'll be a few extra minutes. I need to walk around the block or something."

From that, JJ knew it wasn't only his legs that needed stretching. Reid did some of his best thinking on his feet.

"Take your time. I'll need to go through this stack Hirsch just sent over."

Their task wasn't a static one. New information was coming in all the time. Once DHS had done whatever it did with the messages, they were forwarded on to JJ and Reid.

He took the stairs down, enjoying the sense of movement after almost six hours of sitting in concentration. Once he got outside, he inhaled the late summer air, savoring the relative freshness, despite being in the city. He chose a direction at random and started walking. As his hand inevitably slipped into his pocket, he felt his cell phone.

_I should call her. I should cancel for Sunday. It's too convoluted right now. She can't know who I know, or what I know, or how I know it. But…_

But he was worried about the kids from the park. Worried that they were in a school that DHS had targeted as a recruitment source. Worried that they would be vulnerable. That they would succumb. That, maybe, some already had. Talking with Stephanie, even casually, might tell him something.

_But I don't want to risk compromising the investigation. The stakes are too high._

His conscience chided him. _Who are you kidding, Spencer? It's not the investigation. It's her. Admit it. She intrigued you. You liked her._ _And you wouldn't mind at all seeing her again._

As had happened so often, the irritating internal debate distracted his ego just enough to give his id a free go at the problem before him in the case. And, as had happened so many times before, the light went on.

_That's it! I know what it is! It's been there all along!  
_

He quickened his pace, and hurried back to JJ, anxious to get back to work in the light of the new information, the phone call completely forgotten.


	20. Chapter 20

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 20**

The team, minus Morgan and Kate, reassembled at the BAU late in the afternoon. They'd known Morgan would be busy, but had only heard from Kate at the end of the school day. She wanted to stay behind to monitor some of the after school programs, and their participants. Most of the activities wouldn't be running the next afternoon, as it would be Friday.

Reid had shared his breakthrough with JJ, but with the difficult cell service, they'd decided to wait until the meeting to tell the rest. Hotch's arrival, along with Sid Hirsch, got them started.

"All right, what have we got?"

JJ spoke right up. "Spence had a breakthrough!"

'Spence' threw a smile in her direction, touched by the pride he heard in her voice.

"What is it, Reid?"

"Wait, wait!" In a reversal of their usual roles, Garcia pulled Morgan into the meeting through a video chat connection.

The BAU genius waited until his friend was connected. Once that was done, Reid shifted in his seat. "Well, I knew there was something, but I couldn't put my finger on it. So I…JJ and I….went through every permutation of languages, and translations, and intonations, and inflections. And I still couldn't find it. Until I stopped looking for it."

Sid Hirsch wasn't used to Reid's ramblings. "Explain, please."

"It's just that I needed to let my subconscious have a go at it without the rest of me getting in the way. And, once I did that…well, it was obvious. It had been there all along."

"What had been there?" Hirsch, Hotch and Rossi asked the question virtually simultaneously. Morgan's echo was delayed just a millisecond through the electronic connection.

"It's English. All of it. Even the communications that were captured in Urdu and Arabic….they all originated in English. _They_ were the translations."

Rossi appreciated his younger colleague's obvious excitement, but wasn't quite sure he understood what was causing it.

"What does that mean?"

"And," Hirsch followed up, "how, exactly, did you reach this conclusion?"

Reid answered in reverse order. "The thing that had been bothering me….it was the idioms. There are parallels among the languages, but they're just that…parallels. Not exact translations. Similar ideas, similar sentiments, but different word plays. But that's not what we were getting. We were getting English idioms, translated into Arabic, or Urdu. It took me a while because, when DHS, or the CIA, or whoever it was who intercepted them...when they did so, and translated back into English, they altered the phrasing. They didn't quite get the idioms right. If they had, I think they would have recognized it."

The rest seemed to have followed Reid's pronouncement and understood its implications….except for Garcia. "So, you're saying the communications that were intercepted in the other languages were originally in English?"

JJ nodded, excited. "Yes! We'd all thought the primary language would turn out to be Arabic, and that the messages were being translated into English. But it's not….the messages are being translated into Arabic…."

"And Urdu, and then back into English, once we intercept them." Hirsch looked as though the pieces were suddenly falling into place for him.

"So," posited Rossi, "that makes it likely that our ringleader is an English speaker."

"Worse," corrected Reid. "The idioms all originate in American English. The terrorist leader is one of us."

* * *

Reid's pronouncement created an uproar within DHS and its partner agencies. They'd known they had homegrown terrorists within the network. But they'd never thought the network was being led by one. There was a significant amount of pushback, most of it coming in the form of accusations of misreading by 'that so-called genius' from the BAU.

"You okay, Spence?"

"Me? Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know….maybe because that guy from the CIA was so obnoxious. I wanted to clock him, but I thought Hotch might frown upon it."

He laughed. "JJ, I learned a very long time ago to turn a deaf ear to insults. I'd never have made it through school if I hadn't."

She wasn't convinced. "Still…. I didn't like what he said."

He patted her hand. "Thanks for that. Wish I'd had you as back up when I was in high school."

They were waiting for the others to arrive to their Friday afternoon meeting. Morgan and Kate would definitely be joining them this time, along with Sid Hirsch and another higher-up from DHS. Right now, the two DHS men were holed up with Hotch and Rossi.

"Hello, my sweets! I'm so happy my whole family will be home this afternoon! I miss you guys." Their technical analyst had just arrived.

Reid was practical about it. "It's not really any different from when we're on an away case, is it?"

"Oh, my dear sweet boy, yes it is!" She corrected him. "Two of you are undercover and two of you are in a dead zone….that leaves me with only the two boss men to talk to….not that that's a bad thing…"

She'd changed her tune mid-sentence when the boss men arrived with the DHS contingent.

Sid Hirsch made the introductions. They had all convened together this morning, at a joint task force meeting, but it was the first time the BAU members were officially meeting Edwin Barr.

Barr shook hands with the three BAU members, finishing with Reid.

"Dr. Reid. Your presentation at this morning's meeting was…..interesting."

Reid wasn't sure if he was being tested or not. "I've got a lot of experience in linguistics. But this took me longer because of having to work through all the permutations of all three languages."

DHS Agent Barr folded his hands across his abdomen. "We're wondering what it is that makes you so certain about the leadership being from this country."

Hotch put up a hand to keep Reid from answering. "I'd like to wait until we've got the full team assembled before we take this conversation any further."

The unit chief was being efficient in making sure they didn't have to repeat the exchange for his absent team members…..and he was giving Reid time to consider exactly how he would explain things to this new emissary from the DHS. Rossi picked up on the strategy and started a conversation with the DHS men about several mutual acquaintances.

Garcia decided to fill the interval time with some not-so-spontaneous small talk.

"So, do either of you guys have plans for the weekend?" Directing her question to JJ and Reid. And not really all that interested in what JJ's response might be.

"My guess is we'll be working through it, " advised Reid. He'd not only gleaned the general identity of the terrorist leader, he'd also found some wording that seemed to ominously indicate a fairly short interval before the planned attack.

JJ corrected him. "Apparently the DHS brass are big believers in having a well-rested staff. They feel like people make mistakes when they're overworked. Hotch said something about it after our meeting yesterday. I think there will be some enforced time off."

"So," Garcia went back to her original question, throwing a quick, meaningful glance JJ's way before turning back to Reid, "as I was saying…do you have any big plans?"

There had been so much hubbub surrounding Reid's discovery that JJ hadn't even thought to broach the subject.

Reid was noncommittal. "Just the usual, I guess. I'd like to see if I can break through a little more of the subtext of these communications. I really have a feeling there's more to it than we've already found."

Garcia tried to mask her disappointment. And then she tried to argue him out of it, without looking like she was trying to argue him out of it.

"But….they won't let you take anything out of the building, will they? Isn't it all 'top secret'? And it doesn't sound like they'll let you inside the building, if they're enforcing time off."

Reid just smiled, and tapped his forefinger to his temple.

"Eidetic memory," explained JJ. "Spence already has everything in his head."

"Oh." Garcia tried to keep the disappointment from her voice. JJ had seemed so certain that Reid must have met Stephanie last weekend. The tech analyst-turned-matchmaker was counting on the pair having hit it off enough to have made plans to meet again. Now it sounded like it wouldn't happen. She made one last effort.

"But…you have to take a break sometime, don't you? I mean, even if we don't believe everything DHS says…" She cut off abruptly when both Reid and JJ rolled their eyes in the direction across the room, reminding her that there were still two DHS agents in it. Luckily for Garcia, they were in deep conversation with Hotch and Rossi. She continued, in a whisper, "….well, even if…you know….. they're probably right about that, aren't they? Doesn't even _your_ brain work better when you take a break?"

Reid leaned back in his chair, stretching his frame all the way out. He eyed his colleague with feigned suspicion. At least, she hoped it was feigned.

"Garcia….not that I'm sure why it's so important to you, but….yes, I'm sure I'll take a break now and then. I often go for a walk to help me think. That's likely to happen this weekend as well."

She was a bit flustered at having nearly been found out. "Oh. Well, good, then. I'm glad you'll take care of yourself. Maybe you can go for coffee, or ….or something."

Behind Reid, JJ was bug-eyed, trying to get Penelope to shut up. She couldn't know that Reid caught the quick look Garcia threw over his shoulder to their blonde colleague.

Any further discussion was postponed by the arrival of Morgan and Kate. Sid Hirsch made the formal introductions between them and Edwin Barr before Hotch started the meeting.

"Morgan?"

Morgan had missed the joint morning meeting, having decided it was more important to accompany a small cadre of the youth center kids on a day of service.

"Our split shift friend volunteered to lead it, and I knew he'd convinced some of the homeless kids to come along, so I decided to volunteer to help him. He brought them into one of the run down neighborhoods, and split them into two squads. They basically did some cleanup of a couple of yards that seemed to belong to elderly homeowners."

Rossi remarked, "Doesn't sound like that panned out into anything, then."

Morgan acknowledged it with a nod. "It doesn't. Until you ask Garcia to do some research for you." He cast his eyes in her direction. "Bab…." He started, then remembered they were in mixed company. Mixed- _agency_ company. "Penelope?"

Garcia cleared her throat and sat up straight, aiming to look professional. "Yes, well. I looked up the deeds for both of the properties that were cleaned up. Turns out they are owned by the same LLC."

"That's not that unusual," remarked Agent Barr. "Especially in the city, there are many neighborhoods where an investor, or as in this case, an investment company, will buy up a number of rental properties. It's easier for them to manage if they're located in proximity to one another."

Garcia was a little intimidated….but not very. "That's true, sir. But then I did a little research on the LLC."

"What did you find out, Garcia?" Reid felt like he was acting as a set-up man, in a play performed for an audience of two. He could already tell, as could the rest of his team, that Garcia was about to drop a bombshell on them.

"I found out that the same LLC owns properties in similar neighborhoods in five cities: DC, New York, Miami, Chicago and LA."

Her announcement was met with raised eyebrows all around. These were the same five cities coming up in the terrorist chatter. But….

Rossi broke the silence. "All right, I'll play devil's advocate. We're looking at five major cities in the US. Surely there are plenty of companies that have investments in all of them. Couldn't this just be a coincidence?"

Morgan was ready for him. "It's unlikely that's the case with this company, Rossi." He turned his gaze to the two visiting agents. "I rehabilitate properties in DC myself, and I worked with someone who did it in Chicago before this. In these kinds of neighborhoods, especially in the larger cities, most of the properties are owned by local individuals, or by local companies. The property taxes tend to be too high for a large network of ownership. Those kinds of LLCs…the kind that owns these properties we're talking about….they tend to operate in smaller cities, where the prices are more affordable and the tax hit isn't as high."

Hirsch wanted clarification. "So you're saying it's significant that this one LLC would own properties in these five cities?"

Morgan nodded as he responded. "In these five, and none other."

Hotch didn't need any more convincing. "Garcia, do we have a name for the company? And its owner?"

"Oh, sir, I'm so sorry to say….. we have the company name, that's on the deeds. It's DTA Properties, LLC. But they've managed to bury the rest of the information pretty deeply. I'm still working on it."

Barr wasn't happy. "Are you saying you can't find out who owns the company?"

"Not yet, sir. I'm so sorry."

Hotch defended his team member. "She'll find it. Give her time."

Barr wasn't convinced. "I'll give it to our research department. They'll find it."

Hotch's narrowed eyes followed the man out of the room as he left to make his call. Then they turned back to his team.

"Kate?"

"Well, I can tell you that you should all hug a teacher the next time you meet one. The kids are great….really, they are… I'm sure, deep down in there under all those hormones….but they can make you crazy, especially in detention, which is where I'm spending most of my time."

"At least they're still in school, Callahan." Morgan made an obvious reference to the street kids he'd been targeting.

"Correct. And, even if I accomplish nothing else while I'm there, I'm going to try to keep them in school. I've already convinced three of them to get involved with that mentoring program I told you about."

"Did you get to talk with the cello teacher?" Garcia couldn't stop herself from asking. But Hotch kept Kate from responding.

"Can we get back on track here, please? Kate, you were saying…"

"Sorry. I was about to say that my time hasn't been as productive as Morgan's. But I do remember a couple of the older kids talking about doing some community service. Do you think they could have been in the group you were with, Derek?"

"Give me some names, and I'll check. We had about fifteen kids altogether, most of them boys."

Reid was curious. "Morgan, did you ever notice if…what's his name? The one who splits his shifts?"

"Zach. Zachary Jackson."

"Did you ever notice if he treats the males and the females differently? For instance, were the girls separated out for the service activity?"

Morgan curiosity was piqued. "Yeah, they were. Why?"

Hotch answered for Reid. "Hierarchy. The networks use women primarily as rewards for the men, or as suicide bombers."

Kate wasn't so sure. "But wouldn't having an American at the head of this network change that? Wouldn't it be more likely for them to operate according to an American cultural norm?"

JJ had trouble containing her snort, and had to apologize. "Sorry. It's just that every time I visit Will's relatives in Louisiana, I'm reminded that we may as well have grown up in two different countries. There _is_ no American cultural norm."

"Bad, huh?" Kate was sympathetic.

"Oh, yeah."

Edwin Barr reentered the room. "They're on it."

Kate's comment reminded Morgan that he was anxious for an update on Reid's theory about the leader of the network. He had complete faith in his friend's powerful mind, and trusted his conclusion. But he'd been alerted, by Garcia, that the other agencies were doubtful.

"Kid, Kate and I didn't make it to the meeting yesterday, or this morning. Can we get a quick recap on what made you realize the leader was an American?"

Reid explained about the idioms, concluding with, "It was one specific phrase that got me thinking about it, and then I went back and looked at all of the ones translated from the other languages, and I found similar things an additional eighteen times."

Kate was curious. "What was the phrase that gave it away?"

"Pull the trigger."

Barr hadn't heard the specifics before. All he'd known was that this BAU agent had turned what had already been a very complex operation completely upside down. He was listening as intently as Kate and Morgan.

"Please explain, Dr. Reid."

"The phrase was in an Arabic message, except that it had been translated as 'fire the gun'. There was something similar in an Urdu message, but it was translated as 'open fire'. Given that context, the rest of each message was translated as though it was referring to an actual attack by armed terrorists. But, when I read back through all of the communications, that whole concept didn't hold up. There was nothing else indicating that kind of attack. And then I realized the idiom. It's a pretty uniquely American thing to use that particular phrasing to mean getting something started, or committing to something."

Barr still wasn't convinced. "Are you saying no one else in the English-speaking world would say that?" His tone was filled with disbelief.

Reid shook his head. "I'm not saying that. The world is a much smaller place than it once was, and idioms creep into our languages and customs from other cultures all the time. But I _am_ saying that it wasn't just this one. After I realized it, I went back through all of them. It's everywhere. Statistically speaking, it would be possible for some of the unique uses of language to cross-contaminate. But not for all of them."

Sid Hirsch spoke up. "I know it's a stretch, Ed. But we can't afford to ignore any possibility. And, for my money, Dr. Reid has made a pretty good case."

Barr couldn't refute his colleague's logic. Addressing his words to the BAU Unit Chief, he said, "All right. So, what does that do to your end of the operation?"

"I think it keeps Morgan where he is. It sounds like we might have a substantial lead there. Kate?"

In that moment, Kate decided she loved her new boss. Despite the fact that she was still pretty untried with the team, he trusted her enough to ask her opinion on how she could best contribute.

"I think I should stay a little longer. I've got some rapport going with the detention regulars…..and yes, sadly, there are detention regulars….. and I think I'd like to see if I can get them to give me a picture of what happens to these kids between school and the streets. I'm hoping I might be able to get some names to match up with our list of possible recruiters."

Morgan supported her suggestion. "I know there are a bunch of kids from the center who dropped out from that school. And three of them were on the community service detail yesterday."

Hotch nodded his assent. "All right. Reid, JJ, you'll stay with DHS to work with the new communication traffic. Rossi and I will shift our focus to look specifically at the Americans known to be in the network."

"See if we can take them out from the top," agreed Rossi, nodding.

"You should look for American-borns, or at least those who've been in the country long enough to have a cultural facility with the language," offered Reid. " A newer immigrant probably wouldn't be there yet."

That raised a question for Barr. "What's to say these guys couldn't have just had some sort of 'immersion camp' or something? You know, raised somebody as an American without them actually being one. Wouldn't somebody like that have the idioms down?"

Reid conceded it. "You're right. It could have happened that way."

"But," interjected Sid Hirsch, "that would give these guys more credit for organization and planning than they've ever shown us before. They're a patient bunch, we know that from how they orchestrated 9/11. But that only required a little planning, and a lot of waiting for the right moment. At heart, they're just opportunistic thugs."

Thugs were right up Morgan's alley. "Then let's not give them any more opportunities."

* * *

It seemed the DHS work ethic would prevail. The BAU would stand down for the weekend, while a rotation of DHS, CIA and other acronymed agency workers would monitor both incoming and outgoing communications. DHS would also assign a detail to surveillance of Zach Jackson, the split-shift worker from Morgan's youth services program. There would be an early morning briefing at DHS on Monday, and then the BAU team would break for their various assignments.

As they prepared to leave, Garcia made one last attempt to suss out Reid's weekend plans. With a note of subtlety, she left him for last as she made the rounds.

"Does my Chocolate Romeo have plans with his Juliet this weekend?"

"Savannah's got the twelve to midnight shift both days, so it's just breakfast in bed for us. How about you and Sam?"

"Oh, just dinner and a movie tomorrow night. I have rehearsals on Sunday. New play in two weeks, everybody!"

"Sounds great, Pen. I'll see if I can get Will to make sure he has the Saturday night off. Of course, that's providing we're in town."

"Do you think they'll keep us on this terrorism thing, or put us back into rotation?" asked Kate. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, "I guess the one good thing about this is that it keeps us in town. I know Chris is happy about it."

"Who's Chris?" Garcia and JJ were in unison.

"My husband. Didn't I tell you about him?"

"No," said JJ. "Kate, I'm sorry…..I didn't realize you were married when I invited you and Meg to dinner that day. I wish you'd just brought him along."

The newest member of the BAU bonked herself on the side of the head. "Stupid me. I didn't even think to mention it. Chris was out of town, so I knew it would just have been Meg and myself at home that night. I would definitely have said something."

"Well….all right. But you'll have to bring him along next time, " said JJ.

"Next time is supposed to be on me, isn't it? Although I'm still trying to find my slow cooker…."

They all chuckled. It seemed Kate was bringing a welcome sense of humor to the team.

Garcia over-tried to sound casual when she turned to Reid. "What about you, Sweet Genius? Any weekend plans?"

Reid didn't seem to pick up on anything peculiar. "Like I told you before….I want to go over some of the communications again. So that's probably my weekend."

Garcia was persistent. "Well, you heard our two distinguished friends from DHS…. A well-rested agent is more effective than an exhausted one."

"I promise I'll only work when I'm awake." Reid put the last of his things into his messenger bag and headed for the elevators. "See you all on Monday."

* * *

The two matchmakers trailed the rest of their colleagues through the doors of the BAU.

"She's married!"

"Remember I told you I had a feeling about her being with someone, Pen? I guess it makes sense. How else could she take a position that would have her out of town so much when she's got a child at home?"

"You know what this means, don't you?"

"No…..what?"

"That all of our eggs are now in Stephanie's basket."


	21. Chapter 21

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 21**

Reid was true to his word. As he'd told Garcia, he did think better on his feet, and especially when those feet were moving. That's what he told himself, when he found those feet carrying him toward the coffee shop on Sunday afternoon.

_It's what I usually do, isn't it? So why should this Sunday be any different?_

Except that it was. Because, this Sunday, he was meeting someone. He never had called Stephanie to cancel their 'meeting'. Even to himself, Reid had difficulty calling it a 'date'.

_Maybe she'll have forgotten. She's pretty busy. Maybe she won't have time. Maybe she was called out for an 'emergency concert'._

He was anxious in a way that he hadn't been when they'd first met. That had been unexpected, and without any perceived cost. Now, he was feeling a self-imposed pressure to be socially competent and interesting, two areas in which he'd never quite accomplished an advanced degree.

The fact that they were meeting in person contributed greatly to his lack of confidence. It marked a sharp contrast to his relationship with Maeve. That one had crept up on both of them, caught them off guard, when they were busy trying to solve the problem of his headaches. Falling in love had been a surprising and yet, completely natural, phenomenon. That it had happened while they were otherwise occupied, and that it had happened on the phone, had made it a far less intimidating process than Reid had once thought love might be. But today he was meeting with Stephanie, in person, for the sole purpose of meeting with her.

_But not for love_ , he reasoned. _Why would you even think that? You've already had the love of your life. Don't be greedy._

To dampen the rapidity of his heart rate, Reid devised a plan to use his meeting with Stephanie to further the work Kate was doing on the case.

_I can ask her about her tutoring_ , he thought. _I can ask about the kids, maybe find out about some of the kids who've dropped out. Yes, that's it. I can use our getting coffee together to advance the case. It's not a date. It's just my job._

* * *

The sun was glaring off the window of the coffee shop, making it difficult for Reid to do surveillance from the outside. He had no choice but to enter. Upon doing so, he made a quick scan of the patrons in the small café. There were several he recognized as Sunday afternoon regulars, and a few who were new to him. But no Stephanie.

He got in the coffee line without having to read the menu. It was always coffee, black, doctored by himself to his satisfaction. But he did have something else to consider.

_Should I just get it and leave, like usual? Or should I take a table, and wait?_

He had his trusty messenger bag with him, carrying three books….well, two if one didn't count 'The Narrative of John Smith….. so he could kill a couple of hours if he needed to. That was enough for him to make the decision to find a table after he'd gotten his mug of caffeine.

He'd just finished amending his coffee and pulled all three books from his bag, preparing to choose one, when a shadow fell across the table. He looked up to see the newly familiar face.

"Hi, Spencer. Sorry I'm late. I got caught up in a new passage and didn't realize the time."

He smiled his hello. "Passage?"

"For my concerto."

His brows went up. "You didn't mention that you write music as well." Pleased to be learning that there were many layers to Stephanie Rowe.

She made little of it. "I don't, really. Well, I guess I've dabbled a bit over the years. It's just that I haven't found a piece that I thought would really _reach_ the kids I teach, you know? Something they could really relate to."

"You don't think the classics are good for that?" _They are, after all, 'classics'._

She laid her purse on the chair across from Reid and unwound a light scarf from her neck. "Let me get my latte and I'll come back and explain."

He watched her as she went over to the counter and marveled as she seemed to strike up a conversation with several of the people waiting in line with her. Small talk was another thing he'd never mastered, nor the art of breaking the ice with a stranger unless he was in the process of rescuing them.

Reid ruminated on how different they were, and how different her personality seemed from Maeve's. And then, just as suddenly as that, he had to put a hand to his chest to quell the pain that rose over it. If guilt could be translated as a physical sensation, it would feel just like that. The very fact of comparing Stephanie with his lost Maeve felt like a betrayal of something in his life, something that had been so pure, so real, so unique. He felt a shield fall into place. His heart was too fragile to risk it being penetrated again.

By the time Stephanie returned to the table, Reid had donned his professional persona. He greeted her with his professional smile.

"All set?"

"Yes, thanks for waiting. So, you were asking about the concerto…"

"Yes, I didn't know that you were also a composer."

"So…..really, I'm not. As I was starting to tell you, I think the kids need something they can relate to a little more than the classics. Although there have been a couple of kids who've fallen in love with them…" she mused. "But most of the kids aren't ready for them yet. I have to capture them with something that's more in tune…. pun intended…" She smiled, and Reid gave a small, appropriate chuckle. "Sorry, couldn't resist. Anyway, I feel like I need to reel them in with something that resounds with them, something culturally and age-appropriate. So I've been tinkering with something for a while now."

"Just for the cello?"

Stephanie hugged her coffee as she spoke. "No, I've included all the instuments we teach at the schools….. cello, of course, and violin, and flute and viola and bass, and piano. Oh, and some percussion. We don't have a teacher for it yet, but I'm one hundred percent sure there are some kids dying to get at the drums."

Reid grinned. "If you ever need an audience, count me in."

Stephanie took him seriously. "Actually….didn't you say you profile people for the FBI? I could really use your opinion on how the kids are reacting to it. To _all_ of it, really….the music, the instruments…..not just _my_ music in particular."

Reid was intrigued. "Are you worried about whether you're getting through to them?"

It was the first time he'd seen her look downcast.

"I'm not worried about it, technically. I _know_ I've lost some kids. There have been a few who told me they couldn't fit it into their schedules any more…but there have been others who've just disappeared….like Gary."

He couldn't help it. Reid flashed on a vision of Gary with a bomb strapped to his abdomen, prepared to sacrifice himself if it meant a better life for his family. He literally had to shiver the image away, and then try to assure Stephanie, even as he assured himself.

"I told you, he has to work to help his family. He's not lost, he's just overcommitted."

Stephanie bent over the table, speaking in earnest. "I hope you're right, Spencer. He's a great kid… they all are, really….losing any one of them would be a tragedy."

_Not to mention all the other people who might be lost right along with them, if they've become prey to a terrorist network._ But he wasn't free to utter the thought aloud.

"So, what are you doing with the concerto?"

She was clearly enthused to speak about it. "Well, considering the heritage of most of the kids in my program, I'm going for something that's a little different. Something with Afro-Caribbean roots."

"A reggae concerto?" Thinking he was making a joke.

But she took him seriously. "Exactly! Except it isn't really a concerto. Not technically…although it does give each of the instruments their chance in the spotlight. It's more of an opus, I guess." She smiled to herself for a moment before explaining. "My dad says I should call it 'Miss Stephanie's Opus'."

She waited in vain for him to smile at the cultural reference. When it was clear he didn't understand, she spelled it out for him.

"You know….like 'Mr. Holland's Opus'? That film with Richard Dreyfuss, and he's a composer who gives up his dream to teach music? The one where his son is deaf?"

Reid could only shake his head. "I must have missed that one. When was it out?"

"Oh, back when we were kids….like '95, I guess? But it's rerun on TV all the time."

Reid calculated. "Ninety-five…. I was in my last year of college then. No time for movies."

"College...? Spencer, if you don't mind my asking….how old are you?" Thinking his appearance must be deceptively youthful. And wondering what _else_ on his 'datemybestfrienddotcom' profile had been false.

"I don't mind. I'll be thirty-three next month." Not bothering to ask why she wanted to know.

He could see her making the mental calculations. "Your third year of college? But…. that would mean you entered at eleven!"

"Twelve, actually. Almost thirteen. But I had a bunch of AP credits and was able to carry a few additional courses every semester, for each major. It got me through college in two and a half years."

Stephanie stared at him, trying to take it in. _This guy must be a genius. And he's ridiculously good looking. How is it he's still on the market?_

Then she remembered why _she_ was 'on the market'. _Maybe it's not 'still'. Maybe it's 'back'. Maybe he's lost somebody too._

Knowing very well how hard it was to talk about her own loss, she wouldn't ask him. Not yet. But she did have some other questions.

"Did you say 'each major'? As in multiple, at the same time?"

He read her reaction, and was embarrassed. Not that being brilliant enough to accomplish what he had academically wasn't a really good thing. But, sometimes…..like when he was having coffee with an interesting woman…. he just wanted to be normal. But, he'd started the conversation in this direction, so he would have to finish it out. Reid explained about his multiple bachelors and masters degrees.

"Wait-you've got bachelors in four majors, plus an additional three doctorates?"

He gave her his shy smile. "Guilty. But I only got three of the bachelors before I moved on to the PhDs. I got my BA in philosophy just a couple of years ago, and I'm working on anthropology now."

"You're still in school? And working full time?"

"Better than full time, with my job. But there's really no pressure. I can finish the degree whenever I want. There are quite a few good on-line programs now."

Stephanie had been leaning in to him the whole time, intrigued with what he'd been telling her. Now she sank back against the support of her seat.

"Wow. Just..wow. I used to think I was smart, but…..wow."

He was stricken to think he'd made her feel bad about herself. "No…no, don't say that. You _are_ smart. And you're doing something wonderful with your life. Something important."

She blushed, just a little bit. Reid couldn't remember ever having made a woman blush before. If he'd done it to Maeve, he certainly hadn't been able to see it.

"Thanks. I hope you're right." She fixed her gaze out the window as she tried to find the right way to express herself. "It's just that….well, I love music. I ….it's simple and yet intricate, it's expressive, it's emotional, it's…..well, it's just all I've ever wanted to do."

Reid could see the depth of her feeling in her facial expression. "Good for you. You get to live your dream."

She smiled even as she was shaking her head. "But that's just it. It's good for _me_. I'm doing what _I_ want. But is that really all that matters? Aren't we supposed to be about helping other people? That's why the tutoring is so important to me. _That's_ something that matters."

Reid squinted at her in puzzlement. "Do you really believe that music doesn't matter?"

"Well…it's not like your job. Your work sounds incredibly important, Spencer. I mean…with the FBI?"

Reid leaned his elbows on the table, drawing her in. "My work….. sometimes I get to help people…and sometimes I don't. Sometimes it doesn't work out."

It didn't take a profiler to notice how his voice dropped at the end of the last sentence. Stephanie's suspicion of Reid's having experience with loss grew.

"But..," Reid went on, "there was a time when it was music that helped us solve the case. It helped me communicate with a young boy who had no other way to express himself, and it helped us find his mother." _And his dead father._

"Really?"

"Really. In fact, it was what got me started on the keyboard."

"You play?" She was enthused.

He made little of it. "I dabble. But playing is really all just math, and…."

She said it at the same time as he. "….muscle memory." They both laughed, and she continued, "So, that's all there is to it, huh?" It sounded like she was teasing him.

"Well…..no. That's mostly all it takes to pluck out the notes correctly. But to make it really music, to make it art…..that requires emotion. That's where talent comes in. Anybody can learn to put together a series of notes. But only an artist can use them to translate emotion into sound….into something physical."

She had a dreamy look to her. "Sometimes, I think that's why music was created. For us to express the inexpressible."

He stared at her, considering what she'd said, drawn to how she'd said it. He agreed with her. "Not everything can be articulated in words."

"Exactly."

"So, Miss Stephanie," shocked, even as it was happening, to hear himself address her in a teasing way, "maybe your job is important after all, wouldn't you say? Not that I don't think what you do with the kids is amazing, and vital, and I would never want you to stop doing it, but…. isn't it just as important to create the beauty that you do with your instrument?"

A look of delight bloomed on her face. "I guess I'd never quite thought about whether I was helping someone just by playing with the orchestra. But…. you're right. Music does do that for us. It puts us in touch with our physical selves and our emotional selves at the same time. Our spiritual selves, too."

It would have been perfectly natural for him to use that entry to ask about her spiritual life, her belief system, or whether she even had one. It would have been an expected part of the 'getting to know you' process. But there was still too much of the old Spencer Reid in him, and it felt like it might be intrusive. Uncertain what else to do, he combed his brain for another subject. But he took too long, and Stephanie seemed to take his prolonged silence as disinterest.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to monopolize the conversation. I'm not usually like that, I promise. I don't usually talk so much about what I do for a living."

_Nice move, Spencer. Or lack thereof,_ he chastised himself. "No, not at all. You didn't. I asked. And it was nice to hear someone excited about her life's work."

Unlike Reid, Stephanie _did_ know what to do with an opening. "What about you, Spencer? Are you satisfied with your life's work? Or do you have a secret dream to change the world?"

They were now on the subject matter that was always the least comfortable for Reid to talk about….himself. He shifted awkwardly in his seat to cover the desperate search for interesting material that was going on inside his brain. Finding none, he was forced to admit it.

"Me? I am, I guess. I mean, satisfied with my work. Sort of. Like I told you, sometimes we help people, but there are plenty of times when we lose them. I like to think that, whenever we are able to keep an unsub from killing anyone else…." Not saying exactly _how_ they 'stopped' those unsubs. "…we prevent the loss of another life, or maybe even many lives, and the ruining of the lives of all the people who care about them."

"That has to be rewarding, doesn't it?"

He gave a sideways, noncommittal nod. "It is. But prevention is sort of nebulous, isn't it? Like, we don't know whose lives we've affected. And neither do they. It's a lot more rewarding when we find someone before they're killed, and are able to save them….but it doesn't happen very often."

"But still, Spencer….. that's so much more impactful than what I do. You must be very proud. And your family must be as well."

There was such a complex mesh of emotion struggling for expression on Reid's face that Stephanie thought he might be feeling ill. And then she suddenly wondered if the 'family' reference was causing his reaction. _Good God, what if that's what he's lost?_

"Are you all right? I'm sorry if that was the wrong thing to say."

He had trouble getting started. "No…it's all right. I'm ….fine. I'm fine. You didn't say anything wrong."

"But…..you look upset."

"I'm sorry, it's not that. I just….. I guess it's just….complicated." _And I don't really know you, and I don't share easily with people I don't know. Or even with people I do know._

She backed off. "It's all right, we can talk about something else. Except…" She looked at her watch, "…..oh, it's almost four. Spencer, I'm so sorry. I have to go. We've got a performance tonight."

Considering the exchange they'd just had….or lack thereof, on his part….Reid couldn't help but wonder if she was making an excuse. If so, he wouldn't blame her.

He pushed back his chair as she stood, to be polite. "I'm sorry if I ruined our conversation."

She looked surprised. "Are you kidding? Spencer, this was so nice. You made me think about things in a very different way. I loved that!"

"Really?" Sounding as incredulous as he felt.

"Really. In fact, I'd be up for another coffee date, if you would."

"Really?" _Stop saying that, Spencer!_

He hesitated, the mixed feelings of a few moments ago causing him to question the wisdom and viability of this new relationship. But, before he could talk himself out of it, he found that his voice had already made a decision.

"Well…yes, I guess so. Should we try for next week? Same time and place?"

She smiled. "Same time and place. But maybe, if the weather is good, we can take our coffee to go. I'd love to take a walk through that park we met in. It seemed beautiful. I think I'd like to see more of it."

He smiled. "All right, then. If it's nice, we'll walk." _On our 'date'._

She pushed in her chair and moved toward him. Before Reid had a chance to be afraid of what she would do, she did it. Leaning a hand on his arm, she tipped up and kissed his cheek.

"Have a great week, Spencer."

He could feel the blush rising past his ears. "You too. Have a great week."

* * *

As he made his way back to his apartment, Reid called on his eidetic memory to recall every word of their conversation. He tried to stifle it when it came to her statement of how his family must be proud of him, but it wouldn't be stifled. He relived his emotional confusion, and tried to unravel it.

_Maybe it's because of the obvious. My mom is almost embarrassed that I work for 'those government pigs', when she remembers it at all. If my dad is proud, he's going to have to put an announcement on google, since that's how we communicate. I remember Gideon telling me he was proud of me…..right after I'd killed a man for the first time. Same with Hotch and Morgan. JJ was proud of me after we delivered that baby together. I guess I kind of was, too. And Maeve….._

The maelstrom of emotion threatened to swallow him again. _Maeve_. Maeve had expressed her pride in him, many times. But she'd also simultaneously refused his help, begging the question. But that wasn't what was affecting him, this time. This time, it was the fact that he'd gone through almost the entire afternoon without thinking about her. Not until Stephanie's innocent question had brought her crushing back.

He felt guilty all over again. He'd gone to the 'appointment', as he'd justified it, with the intention of using it to further their case. It was just a part of his job, he'd reasoned. He wasn't 'moving on'. He'd even felt his 'shield' falling into place.

But the shield had obviously been faulty. Somehow, he'd completely forgotten about the case, and the job…..and even Maeve. It felt, once again, like a betrayal of their relationship, even if it had already been a year and a half since that relationship had ended.

_But it hasn't. Not really. It's true I can't talk to her any more. Not on the phone, anyway. But I still feel like we're in relationship. How can I let that go? How can I justify wanting to? Wouldn't that mean she was less important to me than I'd thought?_

Reid had spent so much of his life as a solitary creature. For him, relationships were not things to be taken for granted. They were unexpected, and rare, and precious. He treasured all of the true relationships in his life, and had never let go of one easily. It was, in part, why he'd _had_ to reconcile with JJ. He couldn't imagine his life without her. It was why he still loved his mother, despite the schizophrenia-induced stiltedness of that relationship. And it was why he still resented his father, and why he still couldn't resolve his feelings about Gideon.

But the relationship with Maeve, however unorthodox it had been, had been the one that had required the most of him. There was no natural coming together of the two. They didn't live together, nor see one another daily in the workplace. He'd had to go out of his way to connect with Maeve, and she with him. It had required a true commitment, one that he'd originally hesitated to make, being so unfamiliar with it. But he _had_ made it, and it _had_ been real. It had excited him, and made him feel full, more complete, more valued. And now he was having trouble letting it go. Or getting _it_ to let _him_ go.

Which was why he couldn't quite explain what had happened today with Stephanie, or why he was willing to let it happen again. It was almost like there was an unseen force pushing him. And something within that told him it was all right to let himself be pushed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 22**

The week went by quickly, with a flurry of newly intercepted messages arriving daily. By all accounts, this was an unprecedented level of communication, precipitating concern for an attack in the near future. JJ and Reid continued their now-systematic review of the communiques, while Kate left her post at the school to join Hotch and Rossi in conducting interviews with known and suspected recruits. Morgan remained at the youth shelter, but was now overtly questioning participants about what they might know or suspect. Zachary Jackson had managed, somehow, to elude his surveillance team, and was 'in the wind'. With that development, there was little point in being subtle.

On Friday morning, Reid went directly to the DHS building, arriving a full hour ahead of JJ. He was surrounded by a virtual confetti of paper when she walked into their borrowed conference room.

"Whoa….what happened here?"

It took him a moment to look up at her. "Huh? Oh, hi, JJ. Did Henry and Will get off all right?" He returned his attention to the papers without even waiting for her reply.

She dropped her purse on the only empty part of the table. "You should have seen your godson. He wanted to pack everything from his room. I even saw Brownie's foot sticking out of his pack."

Reid chuckled, but he was touched. He'd given the little stuffed dog to Henry for his first Christmas, and it had become the little one's transitional object..… wise counsel when he needed it, comfort in time of woe.

"I hope Brownie likes camping, then."

"He won't find out. Will convinced Henry that he might get lost in the woods, so Brownie is once again steadfastly guarding Henry's bed…and all the other toys he had to leave behind. But, to answer your question, yes, they got off all right. To tell you the truth, I'm kind of glad they're out of town right now."

She'd still been inclined to send Henry off to her mother, but had been convinced against disrupting the boy's routine. The newly evolving immediacy of the threat was making her rethink that decision.

JJ waved her arms around the room, indicating the mess of papers on the table, the chairs and the floor. "Once again, I'm asking ….what happened here? You didn't do this in just the past fifteen minutes, did you? What time did you get here?"

He still seemed distracted. "I was up early, so I thought I might as well come in. I was going over things last night…you know, in my head…..and I thought of something. So stupid, not to have thought of it before…." His voice trailed off, as though he was speaking to himself.

"What was it?"

He started grabbing for individual papers, apparently looking for something.

"Spence?"

He seemed to have found what he wanted. "Here. Look, here." He handed her the paper.

JJ took it and read the communication, recognizing it as one they'd reviewed several times last week. Before she could finish, Reid was handing her a second sheet.

"This one, too." He shuffled through a few more papers and found another, again handing it to her. "And this one."

JJ read through the two additional communications, again recognizing them as part of what they'd gone through last week.

Still holding the papers, she threw her arms apart in bewilderment. "I don't get it. I remember reading these already. Several times, if I'm not mistaken. Are you saying you see something new in them?"

"I'm saying I'm looking at them in a new way." Even though he only had an audience of one, Reid went into full professorial mode. "At first, I made the usual mistake. I was looking at them as an American."

JJ squinted her lack of understanding. "I don't get it."

"I mean, I was, essentially, profiling their meaning from an American point of view. Let me give you an example. If you were worried about a terrorist attack happening…"

"I _am_ worried about a terrorist attack happening."

"Well, yes, I know. But…okay, look at it another way. Suppose it was you who was planning the attack. When would you plan it for?"

She had to think about it for a moment. "I don't know….maybe a major holiday…like the Fourth of July, or Christmas, or Thanksgiving…"

"Exactly! You'd pick a date that had significance for Americans. That's what I mean by an American point of view. But terrorists usually aren't Americans. So we have to think like they think."

JJ still wasn't sure she was following his reasoning. "So, we have to think of dates that are important to the terrorist world?"

"Well…yes, and no. That would be hard to say, wouldn't it? There are so many different factions….at least thirty-three, actually… not necessarily affiliated with a particular nationality, which makes it even more complicated…. So yes, we have to think of things that are important to them. But not necessarily dates."

"So, September 11 was a random choice?"

Again, Reid had to waver. "Maybe. But maybe not. September 11 marked the anniversary of the defeat of the Ottomans at Vienna. Many think it was the turning point….the _down_ -turning point….of the Ottoman Empire."

She hadn't known that. "Here I thought they'd just picked a beautiful Tuesday in September…"

"That may have been it. Or it may have had significance to them. The point is, we need to think like they do."

She sat down and absently started organizing the papers strewn all over the table. As often happened, she wasn't quite following him. But she knew enough to go along. "Okay….so how do we do that?"

Reid was glad for the mental exercise. "All right. Answer me this. What's important to Americans?"

That was easy. "Freedom."

"Great, freedom. What else?"

JJ shrugged. "I don't know….opportunity, maybe? The chance to get ahead?"

Reid nodded, adding, "That's probably true of most Americans. But, taken to the extreme, it would look like greed…. the seeking of wealth, and power, even if it means others have less."

She agreed with him. "That's the image of America that terrorists like to promote."

"It is. And, unfortunately, we give them plenty of material to work with. But that's not the point."

"It's not? Spence, I think you've totally lost me."

"Sorry. Let me back up." It was important to Reid that she see it as he did. She understood him best, and if _she_ couldn't follow his reasoning, then he certainly wouldn't be able to make his case to the agency. "Look at it a different way. If you were at war with the United States…..if you were launching an attack….what targets would you choose?"

She thought for a moment. "Well, I guess I would go for some of the cities on the list. By attacking New York or LA I could take out much of the communications network. I could cripple air transportation by hitting Chicago, or Atlanta, or Dallas. And I could take out our leadership by attacking here, in DC."

"Exactly." He wasn't surprised at her ability to strategize. "But on September 11, the terrorists aimed only at New York and DC, and they aimed only at symbols of wealth and power. They made no effort to take out our communications system, nor to hinder our transportation system. It's true the attack had an effect on air transport, but it was only for a few days. If they'd actually attacked a transportation hub, it would have been lost for months, if not years."

JJ was starting to get it. "So the attack wasn't actually designed around accomplishing a specific piece of destruction….."

He smiled, excited that she was following him. "It was designed to make a statement."

"Which was….what? That they were more powerful than our symbols of power?"

"Partly. And partly to say that they were willing to die to achieve their ends, and didn't care how many others died with them. That's why the suicide nature of the attack was so important. They were showing us how different their way of life is from ours."

"And they wanted to rob us of what we value….our sense of freedom."

Reid nodded, watching as JJ looked dejectedly at the table. "What are you thinking?"

She heaved a great sigh. "I'm thinking that I don't want Henry to grow up in a world like this. And that I need to do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen." She looked up at him. "But I don't know what that is."

His sad smile conveyed his sympathy. "You're doing it. We all are. And I think I figured something out."

She encouraged him with a look.

"Okay. We were just talking about why the terrorists might have picked September 11, and why they decided on what was essentially a suicide bombing, right?" When she nodded, he continued. "So we were trying to profile them, to get inside their minds. And we're going to need to do it again. But there's one big difference this time…"

She followed him, exactly. "The leadership is American. We need to think like Americans."

He clarified. "We need to think like Americans who have embraced a different value system. It's more complex."

She thought for a minute. "Like Oklahoma City?"

"Sort of. That was a disillusioned domestic terrorist plot. People who hated their government but not necessarily their fellow citizens."

"Except that they killed 168 of those citizens."

"By bombing a federal building. They thought the end justified the means. Here, we have an American terrorist leader of an international plot. By aligning with the overseas components, he's already demonstrated his disdain for both our government and our people."

"Okay, so what does that tell us?"

"Nothing good. In 2001, Al Qaeda knew it couldn't take on the whole United States citizenry and armed forces, so it went for making a statement. But Americans like to think big. It's very possible the leader of this current plot is thinking he can take on the USA and win, as megalomaniacal as that may be. It's just possible he's strategizing about how to disable an American response at the same time that he's reminding us that we're not as free and powerful as we like to think."

"Which means?"

"I can't be sure. But I think it means he'll go for the communications hubs. I think New York and LA are the likely targets. He won't care about taking out the airline hubs, because it will be moot, if communication is down."

"You don't think he'll try to make a statement?"

"Oh, no….I _do_ think he'll make a statement. I even think it's likely he'll use suicide bombers. That's the melding of the two cultures. What I haven't figured out yet is exactly what…..or where…that statement will be."

* * *

They decided they needed to brainstorm with the team over what they'd concluded. Apart from Hirsh and Barr, there were still many in DHS and the partner agencies who didn't trust Reid's conclusion about the terror plot leader being an American. And that distrust would flavor their reception of his new thought process. Working as a team would help them to flesh out the current idea, and figure out a way to get it across to the nonbelievers.

She pulled out her cell, intending to call Hotch and ask him to convene the meeting. But it was, as it had so often been, jammed. "Damn it! I'm going to have to go outside to call….. _again_. Stand at the window and I'll give you a thumbs-up if we're meeting, so you can come down. Otherwise, I'll come back up."

"Can you get some coffee from that shop down the street while you're outside? It wasn't open when I came in so I had to drink the stuff they have here." He made a face at the memory.

JJ laughed. "The things we sacrifice, huh, Spence? Sure. And I'll bring you some nice sugary donuts as well."

"Sweet!"

* * *

As he waited at the window for JJ to appear, Reid ruminated on the problem of determining what kind of statement the terrorists might be planning to make.

_The last time, they went for our power structure. Our center of finance, our military leadership….they were probably intending that last plane for the White House, or the Capitol, to take out our leaders of state. How does that change now?_

He saw JJ emerge from the building and out onto the sidewalk. She looked up to be sure he was at the window and they both waved. He could see her holding her phone to her ear and shaking her head. She pointed at the bus idling in traffic and then at her ear, pantomiming that she couldn't hear. Then she pointed down the block to indicate she would move away from the noise, and that he should watch for her there.

_So, what changes is that they actually want to disable us. They want to make sure we can't respond to them. But we live in a different world now, thanks to them. We're more wary. It will be harder. So they'll need to remove any direct threats….._

His eyes brightened in recognition. _DHS. It didn't exist before 9/11. But it's their most visible enemy now._ _It would be very 'American' of their leader to want to say 'up yours'. The target might very well be right here, where I'm standing.  
_

Still looking out the window, Reid lost sight of JJ when his eyes were blinded by a brilliant flash of light.

"Wha..."

If not for the genius-velocity firing of his synapses, his face would still have been turned to the window when the shock wave hit.

* * *

Down on the street, JJ was standing in front of the coffee shop in question, having had to move out of range of the noisy bus. It was the height of morning rush hour, and traffic was snarled. She could see the bus wasn't going anywhere in a hurry.

As she waited for Hotch to answer, she eyed some cinnamon buns in the display window inside the shop.

_Even if Hotch agrees to meet, I'll pick up a couple for Spence to munch on. I think only Henry loves sugar more than his Uncle Sp…_

Her brain barely had time to register that her body was flying through the air before her head hit the pavement, and everything went black.


	23. Chapter 23

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 23**

For some reason, she had the sense that it was late morning.

_I don't know why I slept in so late. Why didn't Will wake me? Or Henry? I didn't realize I was that tired._

With great effort, JJ blinked her eyes open. Even before they were all the way there, she felt it. Stabbing, throbbing pain in the back of her head. And pain pretty much everywhere else as well. Her arms hurt, her legs hurt, her back hurt. _Everything_ hurt.

When her lashes finally parted, it took her a few moments to realize that she wasn't in her own home, in her own bed. She was lying in the open, looking up at a cloud-filled sky.

_What?... Where?... What happened?_

She tried to sit up, but her head hurt too much, and she fell back down. Deciding to try again, she put a hand to each side of her head, hoping stability would ease the discomfort, and tried to roll over to her side so she could prop up on her elbow. But immediately upon putting her elbow down, she felt a sharp pain in it. The pain got her eyes all the way open.

Very gradually, JJ realized she was surrounded by glass. The air above her wasn't cloud-filled. It was a miasma of smoke and fumes.

_How did I not smell that before?_

She caught movement in the periphery of her vision, and turned to look at it. There, she saw a rush of activity, several people running in the same direction. _It looks like they're running toward that….bus? Is it a bus?_ The twisted metal and paint wasn't identifiable as such, but it was the right size, and….

_The bus! There was a bus!_

Slowly, images started to come back to her. Memories of….what? a few minutes ago? An hour? A day? She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious.

But then, in the mysterious way of the brain, synapses started firing even before the messenger RNA did its work. JJ started reacting to the situation even before she remembered why she was in it.

_The smoke. The broken glass. The fact that I can't hear a thing. There must have been an explosion._

She was still having trouble getting to her feet, her balance having gone the same way as her auditory input. With persistence, she managed. Still holding her head, she stood and surveyed her surroundings.

The bus…..or whatever it was….was pretty much destroyed. There were flames licking from the posterior section, and there were two additional vehicles, both passenger cars, on fire. They seemed to be what was drawing the attention of the crowd.

It was too challenging to move her head independently, so JJ moved her whole body in a slow arc to look at the rest of the landscape before her. She took in the coffee shop, absent its window, and it dawned on her that it was the source of the glass that had surrounded her on the ground. As she lifted her head and began to take in the largest building on the block, she felt a nudge at her elbow.

JJ turned and saw a middle aged gentleman staring at her, his lips moving. With time she could make out sound, but not individual words. But she gathered that he was talking to her, and tried to read his lips. ' _Are you all right?_ ' she thought he said.

For some reason, she couldn't get her lips to move. Or maybe she just couldn't hear her own response. So she just tried to think it to him.

' _I'm dizzy, everything hurts and I can't hear you_.'

He didn't seem to understand, and kept mouthing words at her. Finally, he waved a woman over, and she joined him in speaking words JJ couldn't hear. And then, finally…. a sound. High pitched, whining. A siren.

Ever so slowly, her hearing returned, and she could make out their words. Was even able to form some in reply.

Despite her internal response, her words were, "I'm okay. Help them." Gesturing toward the burning cars.

The pair followed the direction of her hand and looked at the crowd gathering around the cars.

"Go," she said. "I'm okay."

When they left her, JJ took stock of her surroundings. There was the burnt out bus, sitting in the line of traffic next to the burning cars. Behind them, there were scores of cars stopped in traffic, some with windows blown out, some with apparent damage from shrapnel. Most of the cars in front of the bus had apparently vacated the area. The drivers and passengers of the vehicles were gathered in several scrums, two around the burning cars and one near the bus. In the distance, she could see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles approaching the scene.

_I can't have been out too long. They would have been here already. There are fire stations all over the city._

She was irrationally glad to be rational. _I can't be too badly hurt, if I can think straight. Right?_

She took in the rest of the scene. The coffee shop with its windows blown out, its patrons now dispersed. The dry cleaning shop next to it. And the DHS building, whose entrance lay directly across from the burnt-out bus. The building that was now missing almost the entirety of its front wall.

_That's pretty much ground zero_ , she thought. And then the rest of her synapses fired.

_Spence! He was standing at the window!_

The absent window, within the absent wall.

* * *

Consciousness came slowly back to Spencer Reid.

His body was splayed across the conference room table, as he lay prone upon the array of papers he'd been reviewing. When the swirling in his brain stilled enough, he started to push himself off the table….and then stopped abruptly, halted by a stabbing pain in his right upper back.

It literally took his breath away. He tried to reach over his shoulder, but his muscles kept splinting the pain, rendering him inflexible.

_I can't just lay here. I'm gonna have to power through it._

So he readied himself, prepared his mind to overcome the resistance of his body, and pushed off from the table, forcing himself erect. And then immediately fell to his knees.

_I'm not sure I can do this. Maybe I should just wait…_

But his 187 IQ points had already taken in his surroundings and reached a conclusion. Not only were the windows to the conference room blown out, the wall had disappeared right along with them. He could vaguely hear sirens in the distance.

_Or they might be right outside. I don't think my hearing is right._

Reid considered his predicament. There had obviously been some kind of explosion. People could be hurt. People could have been killed.

_If the front of the building was destroyed, I can only imagine what happened on the street._

It hit him, taking his breath away just as suddenly as had the pain in his back.

_The people on the street. JJ!_

* * *

She was unsteady on her feet, but she was making progress. JJ worked her way up the street toward the entrance to the DHS building, feeling her belt to make sure her badge was still there.

As she reached the place where the doors should be, JJ saw only deformed metal frames with shards of glass and pools of what looked like hardened crystal. It struck her that she might be looking at glass that had been melted in the heat of a fire.

Inside, she saw two uniformed bodies lying still and supine, the remains of the security team she and Reid had come to know over the past several weeks. JJ uttered a silent prayer for them and their families as she tried to move past the remnant of the doorway and into the building. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Where do you think you're going, Miss?"

JJ whirled around to confront her obstacle, and immediately lost her balance. She fell into a DC patrolman with a muted curse.

"Miss, you can't be in here. It's a secure area."

_Secure? Are you kidding? Look around you._

She didn't want to antagonize him by saying it aloud. Instead, she lifted her badge for him to see.

"I'm with the FBI. I need to get upstairs."

The patrolman took her badge for a closer look, then handed it back to her with a regretful shake of his head.

"Sorry, Miss…Agent. I'm under strict orders. No one goes in until the scene has been cleared."

She made no attempt to disguise the impatience in her voice. "I need to get back up there. I just came out to make a phone call. My teammate is up there!"

"I'm sorry. Really, I am. But I'm under orders. We can't have anyone contaminating the scene."

"I'm not contamin…." She started to shout at him, but interrupted herself when she processed her prior words. _The phone! I was calling Hotch!_

The device had, remarkably, still been in her grasp when she'd regained consciousness. JJ started punching buttons…and punching buttons…and shaking the phone, and punching buttons again….

The patrolman was still watching her. "I'm sorry, Agent…." He twisted around to look at her badge gain, "…..Jareau. The towers were damaged in the explosion. There's no cell service right now."

"Well, how can I make a call? What about your radio? Can I reach my unit chief through a relay?"

Physically, he knew, it was possible. But the officer wasn't sure if that might require overstepping his jurisdiction, or his orders. "I'll try to find out. But you'll have to wait. My only assignment right now is to keep everyone out of the building."

Shortly after, an EMS crew came through and were waved on toward the elevators.

"Why did you let them in?" she demanded.

"Orders."

"Well…what if I wanted to help out? What if I was trained in first aid?"

He had a ready answer. "Then you should go out there." He nodded toward the street. "They're putting up a triage tent. You can help them."

She wanted to argue. She wanted to pull her weapon and make demands. But the logical part of her brain told her she was better off cooperating. If she was in the triage tent, she'd be able to see when Reid came out. Or was carried out. If he came out at all.

* * *

As his hearing slowly returned, Reid was certain of the high-pitched sound of sirens outside. Inside, he could hear several kinds of alarms and the hiss of water coming from the sprinklers overhead. The air was acrid with smoke, which gradually entered his lungs and sent him into spasms of coughing. Each of those spasms returned the sharp pain to his back, both problems hindering any further attempts at movement.

Though it seemed like hours, it was probably only a few minutes before he heard movement coming from the direction of the hallway, and he tried to shout. But each time he opened his mouth to do so, he sucked in another lungful of smoke, and went into another coughing jag, splinted by the pain in his back. All he could ever get out were weak calls for help.

Much of the suspended ceiling in the conference room had come down, as had part of an inner wall, obstructing his vision. He could only hope it wasn't also obstructing the sound of his voice.

* * *

JJ was still unsteady on her feet as she made her way over to where the fire and rescue squad were setting up a small sheltered area big enough to hold five or six cots. She badged her way to the person in charge.

"I'm FBI, and I know some first aid. Can I help?"

The fire captain had already assessed the large picture.

"Actually, right now, it would be best if you can help get the area cleared. We'll need to triage on site, but we don't want to risk another explosion."

It was then that JJ realized how rattled her brain must have been by the initial blast. _Of course! We profiled they'd come after the first responders!_

She turned to follow his direction, but nearly lost her balance and had to reach out and grab his arm to steady herself.

"Whoa, Agent….were you injured in the explosion?" He'd thought she'd just arrived on scene.

She tried to shake it off, but that just made her head hurt more. "I'm all right. I was just thrown to the ground. I was probably only out for few minutes."

He took her arm and brought her over to a chair. "Tell you what. Why don't you get triaged first. If the EMT says you can stay and help, I'll put you to work." He signaled to one of the emergency workers who was just setting up some equipment on a table. "Sounds like this young lady lost consciousness in the blast. Can you check her out and decide if she needs to go to the hospital?"

With that, the captain moved off to help organize the rest of the newly arriving emergency crews.

"I'm all right," protested JJ.

"Relax…..." the EMT caught sight of her badge…"Agent Jareau. Anyone upright will be taken care of here. The hospitals will have all they can manage with the others. At least, I hope that's true."

She didn't understand. "You hope there are that many people hurt?"

His voice was grim. "I helped out at Ground Zero. All we prayed for was to find somebody hurt. But we didn't. Mostly, we didn't find anybody at all."

Now she got it. He hoped the hospitals would be full of the injured, instead of the morgues being full of the dead.

She submitted to his exam with as much patience as she could muster. "Well?"

"Well, you've definitely got a concussion. And you'll have some impressive bruising on your back in a day or so. But it doesn't feel like anything is broken. Mind you, I don't have x-ray vision, so I can't be sure. I should tell you to rest, but I can already see I'd lose that argument. So, go ahead. You're cleared to do whatever you can out there. If you feel worse, come on back."

"Thank you!"

She got up slowly this time, having realized that it was the sudden movement that made her head spin. As she exited back to the street, she saw that Metro PD had arrived in force, and had a brief moment of panic that Will might be among them.

_We can't risk Henry losing both of us!_

But then she remembered that Will and Henry were both safely ensconced in the Boy Scout camp some forty miles away.

_Now I only have to be worried about Spence._

'Worried' was one word, but it didn't quite describe how she was feeling. 'Terrified' was another word, and much more apt to the situation.

_He was right at the window, and the window is gone! The whole front of the building is gone! Dear God, please…_

* * *

"Is anybody in here? Can anybody hear me?"

Reid heard the voice and what sounded like the shuffle of debris being pushed aside. He started to answer, and triggered an immediate coughing jag. One that ended in a moan, as whatever was wrong with his back stabbed at him again.

Apparently it was enough noise to attract attention.

"I hear you! Stay where you are, we're coming through!"

Reid couldn't really have done anything else anyway, so he followed direction. Within a few more minutes, a space opened in the pile of fallen ceiling tiles and cinder block, and he saw several men moving toward him.

"Don't move, man! Let me take a look at that!"

It was a DHS agent, followed by two others. All three were, like Reid, having trouble speaking without coughing.

"Look at what?"

A second agent answered him. "You've got a piece of glass sticking out of your back, must be a foot long. Don't move!"

The third agent had gone back out into the hallway, and Reid could hear him shouting that they'd found someone alive, but injured. He was trying to get the attention of some emergency personnel.

_Okay, that explains the pain. But it probably hasn't punctured my lung, because I can still breathe okay, except for the smoke._

The thought prompted him to ask, "Is the building on fire?"

The first agent, whose name tag read Martin Edwards, answered him.

"There are fires on the second and third floors, but they're confined to the front of the building. We'll be able to get down through the back."

"What about the people on the street? My partner was down there. Agent Jareau."

When the DHS agent didn't recognize the name, he realized. "Oh, you're the FBI guys…..the ones from the Behavioral Analysis Unit."

"Yes! And she'd gone outside to make a phone call, and…."

Edwards face screwed up. "Gone outside….why…oh…you guys were jammed, weren't you?"

Reid knew he shouldn't really hate everybody in the DHS, especially since three of them were now aiding him….but he was furious beyond anything he could ever remember to think that their refusal to provide his team adequate communications equipment might have cost the life of his best friend.

"Yes, goddammit, we were! And now…"

His words were cut off by the arrival of a pair of EMTs. They shimmied their way into the space around Reid and moved the others back. One of them cut away Reid's shirt to get a better look at the shard of glass that seemed to be growing right out of the FBI agent.

"Okay, he's bleeding, but there's no bubbling. I doubt it's penetrated all the way."

"I'm not having trouble breathing," offered Reid. "Not apart from the smoke. It's just that I can feel it stabbing into me every time I take a breath or move."

"Let us get your vitals and then we'll get you downstairs. They're setting up a triage area. They'll take a look at you and then get you to a hospital."

"I can't go to a hospital! My partner's out there, and I can't leave without her!"

Edwards tried to assure him. "It's all right, Agent Reid. We'll make sure she's taken care of."

Careful not to assume, aloud, what 'taken care of' might mean in this circumstance. Like most of the DHS agents on this floor, Edwards and his companions had taken note of the attractive blonde BAU agent who came and went from the conference room every day.

Not quite placated, Reid had no choice but to allow himself to be assisted through the debris and across to a stairwell. Despite the glass extruding from his back he was, essentially, ambulatory. The elevators were only in use for those who were not. Reid tried to be grateful for not needing the elevator as he grimaced his way down a pain-filled six flights of stairs.

* * *

JJ approached one of the Metro PD to ask who was running the scene.

"Beats me. I think the battle for power is taking place over there," he shrugged, pointing up the block to a group of uniformed brass from various city and state emergency services.

JJ nodded her thanks and headed over in that direction. She introduced herself, explained why she was there, and asked who was in charge.

"I am, for now," answered the EMS chief. "But DHS will be handling the investigation."

"I need to get inside, but the uniform in the lobby stopped me. My partner was working in the sixth floor conference room. I need to get to him." She was unsuccessful in keeping the note of panic from her voice.

The EMS chief heard it and went clinical. "Were you hurt in the explosion, Agent?"

It was odd how she could think rationally on the inside, but not bring it to the outside. JJ was able to reason that she must not be behaving normally, because people kept asking her if she was all right.

"I was, but only for a few minutes. I'm all right. I can work. Please let me get inside. I'm all right!"

Even JJ was alarmed at how much she'd raised her voice. "I'm sorry."

The EMS chief took her by the elbow and turned her. "There," he pointed, "that's triage. Why don't you go over and get yourself looked at."

She had the presence of mind not to tell him she'd already been there. JJ just nodded meekly and moved away, letting the high level cabal resume their conference behind her. None of them noticed when she walked right by the triage tent and slipped back into the building.

* * *

Reid lay prone on a cot, wincing each time the EM physician probed a little more deeply.

"I'm sorry, Agent Reid. I know it's painful. Lidocaine only does so much. If I had you in my emergency department, I'd have put you out for this. But we don't carry that equipment in the field."

They'd hemmed and hawed and finally decided they would try to treat Reid on scene. Like the attack at the World Trade Center, this one had resulted in casualties. But, unlike that earlier attack, the casualties this time were far outnumbered by the wounded. The hospitals would be inundated. Anyone who could be treated and released at the scene, would be.

The emergency physician attending Reid was from Bethesda. He'd seen, literally, thousands of shrapnel wounds, and felt confident that Reid's had not penetrated beyond his rib cage. That meant it could be cleaned and sutured in the field.

"It's all right," Reid grunted, "I didn't want to leave the scene anyway. I need to look for someone."

The physician had heard similar statements, many times before. Soldiers injured, sometimes mortally so, yet always more concerned to find the comrade who had been right beside them.

"Were you working with someone? A partner?"

Reid started to nod, but the movement stretched his back and exacerbated the pain. "She was outside. She was just down the street from the bus…."

It had been determined that most of the damage, and nearly all of the casualties, had been centered in and around the bus.

"…..maybe you've seen her? Her name is JJ….Agent Jennifer Jareau. Long blonde hair, blue eyes…"

The thought of never again being able to look into those eyes hit him like a brick. "Please…"

The physician kept on working. "I haven't seen anyone by that description, but I only got here right before you came in. I'll ask around, as soon as I'm done."

Reid would have to be satisfied with that. He turned his head so he could see the IV bag hanging from the pole attached to his cot. He started memorizing the contents, trying desperately to distract himself from the images wanting to present themselves inside his head. JJ lying, unmoving, in the street. Henry crying, as Reid tried to explain to him. Maeve, lying on the floor of a darkened loft, blood streaming from her head….

* * *

The lobby of the DHS building was now teeming with people. The officer who'd denied her entry earlier was nowhere to be seen. JJ made sure her badge was prominent enough to prevent her being questioned by anyone, and tried to make her way toward the elevator bank. To her disappointment, it was being guarded by two uniforms who saw to it that only medical personnel and evacuated patients were allowed to board. Not wanting to draw undue attention, JJ made her way to the stairwell.

_I don't know how I'm going to do this, God._ Her head still swirled with each rapid turn, and the rest of her body was beginning to ache. _But I have to get to Spence. They probably don't even know he's in there! You're just going to have to lift my feet for me._

She started the long climb to the sixth floor, having to stop at each half-floor landing to gather herself enough to tackle the next. It took her twenty minutes, but she finally reached the door marked '6', and went through it. As she moved down the hallway toward where the conference room had been, JJ could see that a path had been made through the debris.

_Oh, thank God, they found him!_

She climbed past the debris and into the room, just to satisfy herself that he wasn't there. As she was about to leave, she saw a piece of tan leather sticking out from under the table. JJ recognized it immediately, and began tugging. Once she freed it, she put the messenger bag over her shoulder and headed back out. Before she'd made it quite all the way back to the stairwell, several agents emerged from an office, carrying boxes of materials. JJ recognized one of them, who also seemed to recognize her.

"I'm looking for my partner, Agent Reid. He was in the conference room, but it's empty now. Do you know where he is?"

One of the others answered. "The BAU guy? Yeah, I heard EMS took him. Heard he was stabbed in the back."

* * *

"All right, Agent Reid. I took a look around, but didn't see anyone matching your friend's description. The patient manifest doesn't have her name either. If she was here at all, it had to have been before the list was started."

Reid had to swallow around something before he could get out what he knew he needed to ask.

"What…..what about the casualties? Is there a list of those?"

The physician looked steadily at his patient. "There will be. I know you don't want to hear this, but for now, I think the best thing you can do is to get out of here and let yourself heal."

Reid just shook his head. "Thanks, Doc, but you know I can't. I need to get out there and look for her."

The physician smiled a grim smile. "I knew you were going to say that." He handed Reid several scripts. "Make sure you take those. One's for antibiotics, the other for pain. You're going to need both of them."

Reid didn't argue. He just pocketed the scripts and put on the remains of his tattered shirt. With a one handed salute of thanks, he headed back out of the tent and into what was now a scene of controlled chaos, not sure exactly which way to turn. Finally, he decided to head in the direction of where he'd last seen her….the coffee shop. He had to show his badge repeatedly as he made his way through the sea of uniformed and non-uniformed agents that comprised most of the crowd. It seemed the civilians had been largely cleared from the area.

Reid saw the blown out window of the coffee shop, and took note of small amounts of blood on the sidewalk in front of it. He began questioning the Metro PD and EMS personnel nearby, hoping one of them would have seen her, somewhere. No luck.

He wondered if maybe she'd been far enough away. Maybe she's gone further up the street, or even left the area entirely. Maybe he could call her...but his cell was lost somewhere in the remains of the sixth floor. He thought to ask one of the agents to lend him a cell phone, but then remembered hearing someone say that service was down. Dejected, Reid turned and began to make his way back. He would leave contact information with the staff there, and try, somehow, to get in touch with Hotch.

The crowd of law enforcement was almost as thick as it would have been if civilians had been allowed on the scene. Frustratingly slowly, Reid threaded his way toward the triage tent. The throng was simply too thick to allow him faster progress. He had to keep his eyes on the path directly ahead of him in order not to trip over anyone underfoot. But his peripheral vision was active. And, suddenly, in that peripheral vision, he caught a glint of yellow. Although it could have been a shirt, or a hat, or even a reflected glint of the sunlight that was now penetrating the haze, Reid's brain decoded the image differently. It was hair.

He stopped abruptly, no longer willing to divert his gaze to the people directly in his path. Shielding his eyes from the overhead glare, Reid searched the crowd in the general direction that had sent him the image. Despite his height, he wished to be taller, so he would have less obstruction to his vision. His eyes scanned back and forth, using the same technique he used for speed reading, but the image wouldn't re-present itself. Frustrated, Reid let his eyes relax, loosening their focus, and allowing him to take in the whole crowd at once.

The strategy worked. The yellow glint appeared just off to his left, about fifty yards, and seemingly scores of people, away. It was definitely a blonde head, bent forward so that only the crown was visible. Reid stood in place, afraid to move, lest he lose sight of it. Surely the owner would have to stand eventually. But, after nearly a minute in stationary pose, Reid could wait no longer. He plunged forward through the crowd, offering excuses and apologies each time he jostled someone, or stepped on a foot. It couldn't be helped. He couldn't take his eyes from his goal, lest he lose sight of it.

By the time he was within shouting range, Reid was fairly sure. Her blouse was torn, but it was still identifiable as the blue top he'd last seen her wearing. Before he could open his mouth to call out to her, she came back to an erect position. His rapid progress through the crowd must have caught her eye, because her gaze went immediately toward him.

In the same moment, they each knew. And nearly fell to their knees in thanksgiving. But neither pair of legs bent. They were too busy propelling them forward, toward one another. No eyes to the ground now. They were each locked on the others'. Closer, and closer, and…..briefly obscured by a gurney surrounded by EMTs passing through…..and then, found again, only feet apart.

Reid stopped, and spread his arms. And JJ threw herself into them. All either of them could hear was the other whispering, "Thank God…..thank God…..thank God….."

They held one another, the pain of embrace translated as bliss. First responders working nearby smiled as they watched, savoring the rare 'save'. Until their attention was drawn by a sound coming from the sky above them.

Suddenly, it was snowing. In September.

Reid and JJ, and everyone around them, became covered with a fine white powder that slowly drifted down and sprinkled itself over them.


	24. Chapter 24

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 24**

It took them a while to realize what had happened. They were too caught up in the fact that they'd found one another alive, and each seemingly in one piece.

After a long embrace, Reid pulled back and held JJ at arms' length, his eyes running up and down her body, inspecting her.

"Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

She started to shake her head, but the movement threw her off balance again. He could feel the unsteadiness in his arms.

"I guess I have a concussion," she admitted. "I was thrown by the blast and landed on the sidewalk….head first, I think."

He partially turned her and started parting the hair on the back of her head, finding some deeper strands stained red. With a little persistence, he found the source.

"You've got a laceration, but it doesn't look too deep. What about the rest of you?"

"No broken bones. I'll just be pretty bruised up by tomorrow. But, Spence, I went inside…they said you'd been stabbed!"

He reassured her. "There was a piece of glass embedded in my back. It's out now, and all sewn up." He didn't mention the rest of the pieces of shattered glass the physician had removed from everywhere else. "And, apparently, I have a concussion too."

It took that long for them to notice what those around them had already discovered. There had been particulate matter in the smoke right along. But this was different. The smoke was dissipating, but a fine white powder was falling about their heads and shoulders.

"What's this?" JJ brushed a few particles from Reid.

He saw it on her as well and looked up, following the eyes of those around them to the sky. From his vantage point, it looked like a tiny helicopter flitting from place to place above the street. It was emitting the high pitched noise he'd not been paying attention to.

Despite his concussion, Reid's synapses were only a nanosecond slower than usual. "It's a drone!"

He knew at once that they didn't want to be in contact with whatever it was the drone was dropping. Reid grabbed JJ by the hand and pulled her into the closest shelter, the evacuated dry cleaning shop.

"We need to get out of these clothes!" he shouted at her.

She understood immediately. It was what they'd profiled might happen. Whoever had organized the original terror strike was now going after the first responders. They'd already been exposed, so all they could do now was to try to minimize the damage.

JJ ran to the back of the store and looked around. "There's a huge sink...we can wash our skin and hair. I'll find us something to put on."

Reid followed her to the back and started the water while JJ went hunting. She returned with two men's shirts, a skirt, and a pair of men's trousers.

"They were all on the rack ready to be picked up. But the glass and smoke ruined them. I don't think the owners will be wearing them again anyway."

Reid insisted she go first. He would wait in the front, assuming someone would eventually be by to clear the scene. JJ disrobed and rinsed through her hair, doing her best to hose off any exposed skin. A few minutes later, she emerged, hair still dripping.

"Your turn. I couldn't find any towels."

They switched places, JJ looking out toward the street, at the commotion near the smoldering vehicles and the new swirl of activity surrounding the triage tent. Most of those who'd been exposed to the powder had headed there.

She called back to Reid, "It's a good thing it wasn't really aerosolized. There's probably some drift inside these buildings, but most if it went directly down."

When he didn't respond to her right away, she called back, "Spence? You okay?"

"Umm…"

That concerned her. JJ headed to the back of the store. "Spence….what?"

He was half in and half out of the new shirt. "I think I might need some help…..there's too much spasm around the wound."

"Too much…." JJ turned him around….and gasped. "Spence! Why didn't you tell me?"

"The rest of the cuts were all minor. It was the big one that had to be sutured. But my back doesn't want to move."

"Let me help you." She started pulling the shirt back off.

"I was putting it on."

"Without really washing your back. Your old shirt was all torn up, Spence. The powder probably got through. Let me wash it for you."

Logic made him acquiesce. And question. "What about you? Your blouse was torn, too. Shouldn't I wash your back?" And blush.

She smiled. "I'm still pretty limber….until tomorrow, is my guess. Then I'll feel it."

"Oh, okay." Feeling relieved. Reid closed his eyes and relished the softness of the sponge and the warm water against his back. Just that little bit of contact began to release some of the spasm. Without realizing it, he let out a moan of relief.

"Feels good, does it?"

"Heavenly."

JJ finished with her ministrations and then patted him dry as gently as she could with some paper towels. That part didn't feel nearly as good, and Reid winced.

"Sorry….couldn't find anything softer."

"It's fine," he asserted as she lifted the new shirt up and over his back. He was still buttoning when she went back to the front of the shop.

"So, do we just wait for them, or do we wait for the powder to settle and then go out…do we wait for symptoms? What?" Anxiety infused her voice a little more with each word.

Reid heard it and wished he knew how to reassure her. "We don't know yet what it was. It could have been a pathogen, but it could also have been a ruse. A statement. Remember, we profiled he would try to make some sort of statement. We just hadn't figured out if there would be any substance to it."

"You're saying you think it might be nothing? That he sent in a drone to sprinkle powder just to scare us?"

"That's what terrorists do, isn't it?"

"But…."

"My guess is that they'll have a hazmat team sent in to get some samples. It will depend on how quickly they can figure it out. But I'm thinking we'll have to be in isolation until they do."

"Good luck to them finding a place big enough. There must have been over a hundred people out there when the powder fell."

* * *

With nothing else to do but wait, the two profilers did what they did best. They worked the case.

"So, do you think this was our unnamed American and his cell?" asked JJ.

"Well, the explosion might have been debatable, but the drone made it clear it was no accident, so, yes…it looks like it."

"Was it the bus?"

He could only shake his head. "I didn't see the whole thing. There was a flash, and I turned away from the window, and…"

"Thank God you did! Imagine if all of that glass had gone into your face, or your eyes!"

"Yeah. Well, anyway…..I only caught the flash. The best I can say it that it was somewhere around where the bus was. Judging from the aftermath, it looks like that's what had the most significant damage."

She agreed. "I thought so too. But I didn't see anything. I just went flying through the air while I was trying to get through to Hotch."

"Did you?"

"What, get through? I….. I can't quite remember. I think we might have just started talking, but….."she gave a frustrated shrug, "it's all gone. I can't be sure."

Reid started looking around. "We need to call him."

"I know, but cell service is down, and they wouldn't let me use a radio relay."

Reid's eyes had settled on something. "We may not need one. Let's hope the owner of this shop was wise enough to spring for a land line."

He dropped down from the counter and walked over to the register. The phone next to it, obviously the main business phone, was multifunctional…..and cordless, rendering it useless with the power out. Only the DHS building was powered with generators.

Reid rooted around behind the counter, opening drawers and cabinets, until finally he found what he was looking for. "Ha!"

He stood, holding a rotary dial 'princess' phone. "Now we just have to find the jack."

JJ's mouth was open. "What is that? And how did you know to look for it?"

"Stamps. I saw a whole roll of stamps on the table behind the register. Somebody who keeps that many stamps around is probably still paying their bills by mail, which means they probably don't trust doing it on line, which translates, telephonically speaking, to a land line."

She laughed. "You would know."

"I'll have you know that when we all lost power in that hurricane, I still had phone service. The only problem was, there wasn't anybody I could call."

She smiled, remembering when he'd told her. "True confession time? Will got us a land line after that. He thought we should never be out of touch with the world, because of our jobs….but mostly because of Henry."

"You can tell him from me that he's a wise man."

They'd both been looking for the jack without success, until Reid thought to push the register aside. "Here it is. Do you need to call Will first?"

She shook her head. "He probably doesn't even know yet. I'd rather not ruin Henry's first time camping."

Reid agreed. "Okay, we'll call Hotch. What's his number?"

JJ just looked at him. "Three."

"Three?"

"Will's number one, you're two and Hotch is three. I never dial the full number. I don't even remember it."

Reid usually used speed dial as well. But, unlike JJ, he had a nearly unlimited mental filing cabinet. He rummaged through it now, looking for that 'emergency contact' list that had circulated a couple of years back. JJ saw his eyes scanning and knew, from past experience, what he was doing. She waited.

"Okay, got it." Reid spun the numbers on the dial as JJ mused on how odd it was to be using a rotary dial to call a cell phone. After a few seconds, a connection was made.

"Hotch!...yes, we're both okay. It looks like they rigged something on a city bus…No, it had to have been planned. The bus was stopped in traffic, it wasn't idling….right?" Looking to JJ for confirmation. "She's right here with me…..yes…..okay. But, Hotch, has it been reported yet about the drones?"

JJ was watching Reid's face intently, trying to decipher Hotch's response, and frustrated by the absence of a speaker feature on the thirty year old phone. She listened as Reid told their unit chief about the drones, and the powder, and the various things it might mean.

"All right. Yes. You'll let them know we're here?"

JJ could tell the call was coming to an end and gestured that she wanted the phone.

"Hotch…yes, I'm all right. We're both a little beat up, but we're okay. But Hotch….Will and Henry are camping with the Boy Scouts this weekend. I don't want to scare them if they don't already know, but I don't know when we'll get to a phone again. Can you have Garcia keep an electronic eye out to see if he's trying to reach me? You have my permission to tell him, if he calls…Okay….yes, thanks. Okay. Anything else, Spence? No….all right. Thanks, Hotch. We will. Okay, bye."

Proof of their unit chief's connectedness reached the door of the shop just a few minutes later. A woman in full hazmat gear spoke through the microphone inside her protective headgear.

"Agents Reid and Jareau? Please come with me."

They followed her back to the triage tent, which had now been converted to an isolation bay. Reid knew the drill. They would strip and be hosed down, then assessed for symptoms, and finally sent off to wherever one sent victims of a terrorist strike these days. He explained what they'd already done.

"Good thinking, Dr. Reid."

He spun around, recognizing the voice. "Dr. Kimura?"

"We have to stop meeting like this."

His laugh was tinged with just a trace of bitterness. "Tell me about it. You remember JJ, don't you?"

Dr. Kimura waved a gloved hand at the blonde FBI agent. "I'm sorry for the circumstance, but it's nice to see you again."

The irony of the polite greeting in this possibly life-threatening situation wasn't lost on JJ.

"To tell you the truth, I'm relieved to see you. You saved Spence once, you can do it again. And throw me into the bargain."

Dr. Kimura smiled through the plastic. "Let's hope there will be no 'saving' necessary. Now, I don't want to alarm either of you. We simply don't know what was in the powder. You minimized your own risk by washing it off immediately, and you don't seem to have any symptoms yet. Those are both good things. But you also both have open wounds which might put you at greater risk than most of the rest."

JJ didn't understand. "Weren't there a lot of injured exposed to the powder?"

Dr. Kimura shook her head. "There were only two injured still on site. The rest had already been moved. Most of those exposed were first responders. And most of them were without open cuts. I'm afraid it's the two of you we'll have to watch most closely."

"Can I ask how you'll be doing that, then?" Reid had already told her about the probable isolation, but there was something about hearing it from the infectious disease specialist that got under JJ's skin.

Kimura heard it. "Not to worry, Agent Jareau. We'll have a small ward to ourselves at Bethesda. Just those of you with open wounds will be there. The rest will be isolated at the old St. Elizabeth Hospital campus that's being renovated for the Department of Homeland Security."

"Wasn't that a mental hospital?" asked Reid, wondering how much monitoring they'd be able to do there.

"It was. We'll only be accomplishing isolation there, and monitoring for symptoms. If anyone gets sick, they'll be transferred. We just thought we should have the few of you closer to medical care, just in case."

_Just in case. God…_ JJ allowed herself to be led off and decontaminated, emerging with a soaking wet head for the second time in the past hour. Shortly afterward, Reid emerged as well, in a matching orange jump suit.

He saw her nerves and tried to tease her out of them. "I'm beginning to think the 'wet head look' is good on you."

Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thanks. I could say the same for you."

They were led off to a van that had a self-contained transport area in the back, escorted by personnel in full isolation garb. After they'd buckled in, and the van started moving, Reid looked over at his companion. JJ was staring straight ahead, her eyes reflecting her determined struggle for control. Without a word, he laid an upraised palm on her thigh. She flashed him a look before slipping her fingers into his and holding on for dear life.

* * *

Several hours later, they'd been poked, and prodded, and drained of multiple tubes of blood. Then they were shown to rooms across the hall from one another. Reid made sure JJ was settled before he went to his own room.

"If you need anything, we're just down the hall," said the nurse, after she'd shown him how to work the bed. "We won't bother you with monitors unless your vitals change. I'm afraid we'll be checking those every four hours."

He smiled. "I've been through worse. But…since you asked….is there a library here? Books? On anything?"

He desperately needed something to read. Some sort of distraction. Although he'd done his best to put a good face on it for JJ, he was worried. He'd nearly died of the anthrax infection he'd acquired in a pseudo-terrorist attack. He didn't think his lungs would survive another such assault. But all he could do now was wait. And waiting was torture.

He'd been touched that JJ had carried his messenger bag out of the DHS building, and then upset that its contents had been confiscated, pending a decision on the risk of contagion. But he'd had to hide his degree of upset. He knew JJ wouldn't approve of his carrying around one of the items that was in the bag.

_And, please God, I don't want to lose it. Please don't make me give it up. It's all I have left of her._

A short while later, the nurse returned with an armload of books, an assortment of fiction, biographies, other non-fiction, even medical books.

"That ought to keep you busy for a month or so."

He smiled his thanks, thinking… _or until tomorrow_. Then he opened one of the texts and started running his fingers down the page, actively forcing his brain to focus on the words, and not the images that wanted to displace them.

He'd been at it for a little over an hour when he heard noise in the hallway, followed by running footsteps. He was just about to go and investigate when a nurse came to his doorway.

"Dr. Reid! Please come quickly….there's something wrong with Agent Jareau!"


	25. Chapter 25

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 25**

"The neurology fellow already checked her out. He doesn't think it's related to her head injury. But he might order a CT scan just in case."

Reid looked over the nurse's head and into JJ's room. What he saw reassured him, but what he heard nearly broke his heart. He knew it right away for what it was. Reid looked down at the nurse as he pushed his way past her.

"It's all right. It's not medical." He turned, and realizing he was about to close the door in her face, asked, "Do you think we can have some time? I'll hit the call button if anything happens, I promise."

The nurse looked hesitant. Here, one of her charges was in need, and she was being asked to leave her alone.

Reid interpreted the look on her face. "It's just….she's been through a lot this year."

The nurse looked back and forth between the young man in front of her and the distressed patient in the bed. Apparently satisfied that he meant to do good, she gave a silent nod and closed the door behind her as she left the two alone.

The blonde head was turned away from him, but Reid could see the hiccoughing of her shoulders. And he could hear the not-quite-squelched sob that escaped her every few seconds. He approached from behind, but was careful to announce his presence before touching her.

"JJ."

She remained turned away, and he could see that she was trying to bury her face into her chest.

"JJ…it's me. It's Re….it's Spence." He reached a tentative hand toward one shoulder. "There's no one else here. It's just the two of us." Speaking as softly as he knew how.

His fingers landed on her left side as he slid onto the bed behind her. Heartened that she didn't startle to his touch, nor try to shrug him off, he put his other hand on her right shoulder. His fingers picked up on the subtle pressure of her settling back against his palms.

"JJ."

He didn't try to turn her. The burying of her face told him she was embarrassed, and didn't want to be seen. But the gentle leaning back told him that she needed him. Instead, Reid slowly spread one arm across her from behind, and then the other. His arms were so long, and her frame so small, that his hands landed on her opposite shoulders, leaving her completely wrapped in his embrace. With the next unrestrainable sob, she fell completely back against him.

They sat like that, silent, entwined, for the better part of an hour. Reid tried to envision himself absorbing some of her grief, fervently wishing he could actually do so. When the hiccoughs finally seemed to still, he chanced talking to her again.

"I know it seems like it will never be okay again. Like you can never go back to being who you were before. Believe me, I know it well. And…"

He cursed himself for his inability to lie to her….but he simply couldn't. So he told her the truth.

"And maybe you can't. Maybe we're all changed by everything that happens to us. Maybe we're different every single day, because of the day before, and the day before that. But it doesn't mean life can't be good. Because not every day is a bad day. Every new day is made up of the good and the bad that came before it."

He'd known, from experience, that this would happen sometime. For months, he'd seen her barely hidden anguish and tried to draw it out. And then, failing that, he'd known he would have to wait it out. Now, he could only hope that he had the words, or the presence, that she needed from him.

Reid loosened his grasp just slightly, giving her room to move. Giving her room to take a deep breath and throw back her shoulders. The JJ he knew and loved would be looking to fortify herself.

But it didn't happen. Instead, she reached her own hands across her middle and laid them on top of his, where he held her arms. Pulled his grasp back tightly around her. When she spoke, her response told him she'd been listening. And that he'd guessed correctly at what had caused her to break down.

"What about you? Has life gotten good for you again?" Part challenge, part really wanting to know.

There was no need to be specific. They both knew they were talking about the traumas they'd each sustained. The ones that had changed them, and come back to visit them, over and over again.

"I don't…."

"Because you haven't sounded like it. You've sounded like you've let go. Like you don't care anymore. That doesn't sound like somebody whose life has gotten good again. Not to me."

It was one of his most persistent faults. Reid couldn't keep himself from assuming guilt over just about anything. He'd spent his childhood trying to make up for his mother's demon-filled days. For the weak-willed absence of his father. He'd spent a good portion of the last decade beating himself up about an addiction that had been imposed upon him by a madman. And now, just now, he felt guilt over his own affliction with PTSD, as though it had somehow precipitated hers.

He pulled his arms back so he could turn her by her shoulders. For this conversation, he needed to see her face. And he needed her to see his.

JJ let herself be turned, but she kept her head down, eyes focused on the mattress. Reid put a finger under her chin and gently pulled it up. He waited until her eyes followed, and made contact with his.

"It's true I've been struggling. You already knew that, we talked about it. But I _was_ doing better, from…..before. You know…" _With Hankel_. "It's just that I had a setback. I got knocked down again."

Shocked at his own words, which almost made it sound as though losing the woman he loved had been a passing inconvenience, rather than the destruction of whatever hope had entered his life. But Reid had one value system for himself, and a second for everyone else.

"And now you don't want to get back up." She challenged him again.

They both knew she was right. But he also recognized the volley as her attempt to turn the conversation away from her, and the pain she was so obviously in. He wasn't having it.

"Uh-uh."

"Huh?"

"Uh-uh. We were talking about you." He reached for her chin again, holding her head so she couldn't turn it away. "JJ, something happened to you today. Before, in the street….and after, with the powder. But I don't think that's what's got you so upset." He squinted at her. "Is it?"

Reflexively, she started to shake her head, to shrug him off, as though she didn't know what he was talking about. But he held her, and she couldn't.

He wouldn't let her turn her face away. But she was in control of her eyes, and she couldn't bring them to meet his.

"Is it?" He repeated. More gently now, less insistent, knowing it was time to give her a little room.

The gentleness drew her to him, as it always had. JJ finally looked at him.

"No." Quietly spoken. "No, it's….. it's what happened before. I just…I woke up here in the hospital bed, and it was like I was right back there. Back to when I lost her."

The sentence ended with a sob, and she was crying again.

Reid didn't understand her words, didn't know who the 'she' was that JJ had lost. _Rosaline?_ But that was well in her past and, as far as Reid knew, hadn't involved a hospital at all. Nor, to his consternation at the time, had her abduction and torture ended up in a hospital stay.

So he was confused about what she meant, but not at all confused about his need to respond. This time, he drew her to him, and held her, letting her cry softly against his chest.

When she began to quiet, he spoke into her ear. "Do you want to tell me?"

He could feel her heave a great sigh before she responded, then felt her nod against his chin. Reid took her shoulders and pushed her back, then put up a finger to tell her to wait. He fiddled with the bed controls and managed to get the head of the bed to come up. Then he settled himself in against it and lifted his arm, inviting her to fit next to him. JJ couldn't help but give a small smile at the indication that he thought he was in for a long story.

"There's not all that much to it."

He smiled in return. "It's been a long day. I just thought we might both want to be comfortable."

The ibuprofen Dr. Kimura had given him was wearing off, and pain was settling into his back. He was sure she was feeling something similar. But he also knew that the real pain was internal. And he hoped it was about to be released. It had been pent up inside for far too long.

JJ accepted his invitation and settled on the bed next to him, finding a perfect fit against his chest, snuggling as his arm came around her again.

It caused Reid to marvel, as he often did, at how easy it always seemed with JJ, when the thought of physical contact with another woman still felt so intimidating. It hadn't always been that way between them. When they'd first met, he'd found her as intimidating as anyone. More so, if truth be told. In JJ, he'd met the externally beautiful woman who'd so often proven to be his downfall. He'd come to think of them as his nemeses.

But, eventually, he'd found his way below the surface, to the beauty inside. He'd found a home there, inside her heart. It had been his sign that the circumstances of his life really could change, that trust and affection and love were still possible for him. And it was why he'd felt so displaced when that trust had been broken.

Reid realized where his thoughts had wandered and forcibly brought them back. He'd long since reconciled himself to the truth that neither of them could change the past, no matter how much they might wish to. He couldn't demand it of her, and she couldn't respond. They could only find a way to move forward, together or alone. Both had opted for 'together', but making that option a reality was a daily exercise in forgiveness. One in which they were still actively engaged.

This day, forgiveness manifested itself in the softness of his hands as Reid ran one through her hair, and used the other to hold her to his heart.

* * *

"And then…..suddenly, there was an explosion...I remember that much because I felt it, even before I heard it. But the next thing I remember is waking up in the field hospital. And Cruz telling me I'd lost the baby."

Tears had come intermittently throughout the tale. The chaotic, emotional maelstrom of post-traumatic stress was evident in the erratic unfolding of the story. The brutality of the interrogations in Afghanistan. A jump ahead to the brutality of her captivity last year, to the helplessness, the fear of a sexual assault added to the reality of the physical one. Then back again to Afghanistan, and the verbal torture of a mother and child. And then….the incongruously happy news of the pregnancy, followed almost immediately by the devastation of its loss.

Reid absorbed it all in silence, not wanting to obstruct the cathartic flow of memory. When she lapsed into silence, he waited a moment before entering that space.

"You said 'she'. Was it a girl? Did you know?"

He felt her shaking her head against him. "No. I just thought….I guess I believed it was. Maybe I wanted it to be a girl. You know, so Henry could have a sister, and…..well, I was picturing myself shopping for little dresses and patent leather shoes….you know."

He smiled. "I guess I didn't know you were trying to have another one."

"At first we were, and then we weren't. When I first went to State, Will and I thought it might be a good time. You know, less time away, more predictable hours…. So we decided we'd try. But then Strauss brought me to Afghanistan, and I was given this assignment….and suddenly I was away from home a lot more, and for much longer periods of time."

"That must have been hard on you….and Will, and Henry." _Especially Henry._

"It was. Will was more unhappy with me at State than he was when I was the liaison for the BAU. He wanted me to just resign government service altogether and stay at home."

Reid knew the woman in his arms very well. "I can just imagine how that went over. I can't see you just staying home. I don't know that I've ever seen you do fewer than three things at once."

She chuckled. "Yeah, well, motherhood is its own juggling act, believe me. So, no, it wasn't that I didn't think I would be busy enough. It was just that I thought what I was doing for the FBI was important, and I wanted to keep doing it. Will just didn't seem to value it the same way I did."

Reid knew enough to keep his mouth shut. He'd been an inadvertent witness to several episodes of raised voices over the course of his many visits to the Jareau-LaMontagne household, and he knew JJ's job was the root cause of many of them.

JJ continued, "Anyway, we started to plan for another baby, and then decided we needed to wait. But ...I guess we changed our minds too late. "

"Still, you were happy about it, weren't you?"

"I was thrilled. And I knew Will would be too. But I never got a chance to tell him, before….."

There was something in her voice, something he picked up on. And he was surprised.

"And after? JJ, did you tell him after?"

* * *

An hour later, she was still leaning back against him, feeling improbably less tense than she had for so very long. Even in this horrendous, precarious situation, even with the threat of a dangerous biological exposure, she felt a security that she'd been almost physically craving. She could let down, let someone in….let, specifically, her best and most trusted friend in….. and be assured that there would be no price to pay. The very relief of it brought her to tears again.

He misread her. "We can talk about something else. Or we could not talk at all."

"No!...no, that's not it. It's…Spence, I feel like I've been carrying this for half my life. Just to be able to let go of it a little…..it feels good." She heaved a deep breath. "So good."

He was starting to get a clearer picture. "You really haven't told anyone? Not even Will?"

No wonder she'd been so burdened. She'd virtually isolated herself from her entire support system.

"He knew where I was, but…..that was all he was allowed to know. Until last year, anyway. Then it came out in the open-obviously."

"Not all of it." He was still shocked that she hadn't told Will about the baby.

She tried to make him see it as she did. "It was already over, Spence. I'd already been through it. I didn't see the point in putting him through it as well."

"That's pretty practical." Implying that practicality should have had no place in the decision.

She heard the undertone. "You think I should have."

He knew that what she needed right now, more than anything else, was support. "I think you did what you thought was best."

He pulled his arm tighter around her shoulder, and wrapped the other one around her as well. "I'm sorry."

She turned her head partially toward him. "Why are _you_ sorry?"

"I'm sorry that you had such a heavy burden to bear, and that you had to bear it alone. I'm sorry that I was upset with you for not talking to me. And…..God, JJ…..I'm so sorry for what you went through last year. When I think about how stupid I was not to realize…." He'd been with her less than an hour before she'd been taken.

She turned all the way around now, forcing his arms apart. She put a finger to his lips.

"Shh! It wasn't your fault….how could it have been? How were you supposed to know? And besides, it was Hastings and his crew who took us. They're responsible. Not anyone else."

"I know, but…"

"No 'buts'. Seriously, Spence….since we're being all honest and everything here…..you really have to break that habit."

"What habit?"

"The Superman habit."

"Me? Superman? Are you sure you're not confusing me with Morgan?"

In response to the incredulous look on his face, she explained. "You have a very bad habit of taking on responsibility for the evils of the world, as though you had the power to stop them all."

Reid was quiet for a moment, pondering, remembering another conversation he'd had, a very long time ago. _That_ woman had also known him well, and he loved her very much.

"I know I can't stop them all. I don't have much of a track record for stopping _any_ of them. It's just…" He shifted his legs, and took the opportunity of changing positions to bring her back against his chest. "It's just that, when I was a kid….well, not really a kid anymore. I was eighteen, and I'd had Mom committed to Bennington. It took a couple of months, but they got her reasonably stabilized. I went to visit and, when I was getting ready to leave, she called me over and said she had something very important to tell me. She'd been telling me since I was a kid how exceptional I was…"

She reached around and patted his chest, hearing the embarrassment in his voice. "She was right."

"Hm. Well, this time, she said it again. But then she said, "To whom much is given, much will be required. You've been gifted with a brilliant intelligence, my son. You must use it to help others. You _must_ make a difference."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. It was the most clear I'd seen her in years, and that's what she said to me. It felt like I was being commissioned. And I've come to realize that she's right. I _do_ know more than most people, I _do_ see and understand things sooner, and better than most."

"Try ' _all_ '."

"Not all. But nearly. There's no sense in being falsely modest about it. But I also realized that she's right about the responsibility. If I have these gifts, what good are they unless I use them to help others?"

"Your mom sounds like a very wise lady…..with a very noble son."

He snorted. "There's nothing noble about meeting one's responsibilities. And I could argue that I should have done something more with it. Gone into physics, and worked on cold fusion. Or gone into medicine….or medical research…."

She heard it in his voice. "Like Maeve?"

He squeezed her shoulder, and she couldn't help but think she was serving as a physical substitute for the woman.

"Like Maeve. But I didn't. I followed Gideon to the FBI and became part of the BAU. I sometimes wonder if Mom would be disappointed in that choice….you know, for reasons other than that I'm working for the government. But the government angle feeds her illness so much that we never get past it."

"I doubt she would be disappointed in anything you did, Spence. Take it from another mother. I guess the real question is….are _you_ disappointed?"

She thought she'd picked up on something in his tone.

He shrugged his indecision. "I don't know. Sometimes I think it would have been more responsible to use my intelligence another way. But…."

"But you care too much. You care about people. You need to be close to them. You care about our victims. You even care about the people who victimize them. You wouldn't be happy stuck in some lab somewhere, Spence. I think…..no, I _know_ ….deep in that heart in there…" and she patted his chest again, "you're a nurturer." _Because you do it for me all the time._

To Reid, the most amazing thing was that she understood that. Where others saw him as insensitive and standoffish, and wanted to label him a misanthrope, she saw the real man. He might still be socially awkward at times….but he was also, and always had been, empathetic and caring, to a fault.

He stretched both arms back around her and squeezed his thanks.

"How is it that you know me so well?"

"Hmph. I could ask you the same thing, about me."

She was quiet for a few minutes, thinking.

Then, "For real, Spence. I don't think I've ever had someone in my life who I thought sort of ….. _got_ me…I guess. Not the same way that you do. For that matter, I think I always understand myself a little better after I've talked to you. You help _me_ 'get' me. How does that happen?"

It felt like vaguely treacherous ground. "That must happen with Will…doesn't it?"

She had to think about _why_ it didn't happen with Will.

Shaking her head, she replied, "It's not the same. I never expected it to be this way, but it's almost like there are some things that are too intimate to share in a relationship. In _my_ relationship, anyway. It's ….I don't know….I guess there are some topics that I'm afraid to bring up. I'm afraid to find out he _doesn't_ understand. Or I'm afraid we might have an argument. And the stakes are too high for that, now that we have Henry." _And now that we're married_.

Reid was thinking the same thing _. Now that you're married._

"So you hold back?" He was having trouble picturing himself holding _anything_ back from Maeve. But, he acknowledged to himself, theirs had been a relationship without parameters. Maybe things would have changed….. _if only….._

JJ responded to him. "So I hold back. Just some things, not everything. But, with you…"

"Maybe it's because you have nothing to lose with me."

JJ sat up and stared at him. "I thought we were past that. Spence, I have _everything_ to lose, if I lose you. That's why it was so hard, when I thought I had."

Unexpectedly, his eyes filled. He knew _he'd_ felt that way, about her. But to hear her say it of him….

"You haven't."

She patted his cheek as she smiled at him. "Thank God for that."

Then she thought of something …something that might just change their relationship once again. JJ hesitated for a moment, but the total honesty of the conversation thus far drove her to come clean.

"Um….Spence?"

"I'm still here."

"There's something I should probably tell you."

He started to gird himself. If, after all she'd told him tonight, there was something more she'd chosen to withhold…he felt a need to steel himself. "What is it?"

She heard the tiny note of fear in his voice, and reassured him right away. "Oh, no, it's nothing like that. It's just…..well, you might be mad at me." _Might?_

_Another secret? What?!_ He calmed himself to ask, with patience, "What is it?"

It took her a moment to think how to put it. "Well, you know how I was worried about you? I know, that's not what this conversation is about, you've already said that. But …well, I _was_ worried. You've seemed so sad, for so long. And I thought…..what if he had someone in his life? Someone to come home to, who would ask how his day was, and maybe make him dinner, or snuggle with him…"

Now he knew where she was going. Knew more than she did. But he decided not to take her off the hook. He _had_ been upset, when he'd first realized. But, then, not.

"And?"

"Aaannnddd…..well, I might have mentioned it to Garcia. And she might have found an online site that matches people's best friends, and…"

"And you might have found a certain cellist named Stephanie for me?"

She bolted upright, shocked. "You knew?" Not quite being able to decipher the expression on his face.

Which he was being very purposeful about. "I didn't at first. But it wasn't that hard to figure out."

JJ was still dumbfounded. "How….what….how did you know?"

"The first day I met her, she called me 'Dr. Reid'. But that's not how I'd introduced myself. I let it go until she also let it slip that she'd never been in that particular park before. Which told me it probably wasn't a chance meeting. So I decided to do a little web surfing of my own."

"You?"

"I am not a Luddite, despite what Garcia thinks. I just prefer the sensory experience of books…the smell of the paper, the feel of the page in my fingers. But I can Google with the best of them."

"And you found…."

"I found a few articles where she was mentioned. And her husband's obituary. A little creative digging got me to her friends' social media, and they were pretty open about it."

JJ knew she must be beet red by now, but she could do nothing about it. Except apologize.

"I'm sorry, Spence. I know we overstepped. I just….. I was worried about you. And I wanted you to have what you deserve in your life, and…."

He hushed her with a raised palm. "I don't know if there's anyone who 'deserves' anything more than anyone else. And I know you meant well. But, for the record…..please don't do it again."

"You don't like her?"

He shook his head. "She's nice enough. And I'll probably even see her again. I probably would have seen her this weekend maybe, except….." He waved his hand around the room, indicating their predicament. "But, the point is….. I'm not looking for that. Not right now. Maybe some day. Or maybe not ever. I love you for wanting me to be happy, but…"

"But I should butt out and mind my own business."

"No! That's not what I mean. Well, maybe…." He smiled, hoping to get one in return.

She gave it. "What _do_ you mean, then?"

He took a moment to think. "I guess what I mean is that I don't know that 'happiness' is what it's all about. Life, I mean. I mean, it's great to be happy, I guess. But, it's also a little selfish, isn't it? Is that what we're here for? To be selfish? To look out for our own pleasure?"

He'd stumbled upon a topic that she'd been chewing at for a while, having found her own happiness with life lacking. "Are you saying that happiness isn't important?"

"Not that it's not important. It's great, when it happens. It's just that….I guess I've always thought I was here to do for others. To make life a little better for someone else. That maybe I'd need to be willing to sacrifice my happiness for that other person."

Both of them immediately flashed on the scene in the loft, where he'd willingly offered himself for the woman he loved.

"Like you did for Maeve."

A tinge of darkness to his voice now. "I didn't get to do anything for Maeve."

"But you wanted to. And she knew it. _That's_ what was important." She paused a moment, considering the sacrifices she would be willing to make in her own life. "What would you be left with, if you gave something up for someone else?"

He'd already been down this road many times. "Joy."

* * *

It seemed like they'd talked for hours, moving back and forth without logic from the events of the day to those of their pasts, to whatever might await them in the future.

Finally, exhausted, she lay back once again. "I am so lucky to have my BFF with me."

He smiled at the acronym, having been schooled about it by her once before. But he corrected her. "I think you mean AC."

"AC?"

"The Celts have a term that fits us, I think. It's called 'anam cara'."

"Anam cara. AC. What does it mean?"

"It means 'soul friend'. Your anam cara is someone in your life who sees who you are…who you _really_ are….and helps you see it too. It's someone who makes you more 'you'. Someone who helps you find the self you were meant to be."

She could relate to that. Certainly, with Spence, she could see it happening. She, for him, and he, for her. "So, it's like I'm more myself when I'm with you, and vice versa?"

"I don't think 'with' has anything to do with it. It's said to transcend time and distance."

"You mean, like a friendship that lasts no matter where you are or who you're with."

"Just like that."

JJ snuggled in, presuming his agreement to serve as her pillow for the night. "All right, Spence. No more BFFs for me. From now on, you're my AC."

He smiled, holding his AC to his chest. "Always have been."


	26. Chapter 26

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 26**

Disaster visited every dream Reid had that night. Fire. Plague. Explosions.

He'd never been so thankful for the interruptions brought on by nursing duties. Each of them had had their vital signs taken twice during the night. Each time they were awakened, JJ urged Spence back to his own bed, encouraging him that he would be more comfortable. And each time he'd refused, partly because he'd heard the superficiality in her words, and known she needed him. And partly because he needed her.

And, in a truth he didn't allow himself to put into words, even internally….he'd never been more comfortable than he was lying with her in his arms. At least, he was that comfortable while he was awake. He could only wish his dreams would follow suit. But all they seemed to do was to up the ante. His current dream combined several perils at once. He was faced with the heat of a raging fire when an earthquake began to shake the ground beneath him...

Reid woke with a start, disoriented enough to actually feel the heat of the fire and the shaking of the ground, even in his waking state. A few moments of orientation alerted him to an even more frightening reality. JJ was burning up, violently shivering in his arms, enough to shake the hospital bed.

He fumbled for the call button, summoning help. Then he slipped out of the bed and tried to rouse her.

"JJ! JJ, wake up! Please, wake up!" But the only response he received was a pain-filled moan.

As soon as the nurse arrived, followed by a second, Reid shouted at them. "Call Dr. Kimura! Call her now!"

"Right away!" The second nurse hurried back down the hall while the first one tried to tend to JJ.

"Sir, I need room to work…please!"

Reid took a very shaky and reluctant step back, terrified at what might be happening. He ran a trembling hand through his hair and uttered a prayer to the God he still wasn't quite sure he believed in.

_Please….. she has a family…they need her…Henry needs her…I need her!_

Reid heard the rumble of a cart coming down the hall and knew instinctively that it was the 'code cart'.

_No, no, no…..please….._

He was so intent that he didn't even see her enter. To Reid, it seemed as though Dr. Kimura had simply materialized at JJ's bedside. With her arrival, the nurse started announcing her findings.

"Temp is 103.7, heart steady at 176, respirations slightly labored, 40, pulse ox is 90 on room air, BP is one hundred over fifty."

Reid's knowledge of clinical medicine had its limitations, but he knew enough to be sure that none of what the nurse reported was normal. His conclusion was confirmed when Dr. Kimura started issuing orders.

"All right, let's get some oxygen started. We'll need a dopamine drip. And let's see if we can get that fever down. Four hundred of ibuprofen. She got her Cipro last night, correct?"

Reid forgot she wasn't speaking to him, and answered at the same time as the nurse. "We both did."

His voice alerted her to his presence. She'd been too consumed with taking care of her patient to notice earlier.

"Dr. Reid! What are…."

"I was with her all night. Her vitals were stable, until just a little while ago. When I woke up, she was febrile and she had shaking chills."

Not explaining why he'd spent the night with his colleague, nor even thinking that an explanation might be necessary.

"How are _you_ feeling?"

Reid shook his head in angry confusion. "I'm fine. We were with each other when the powder fell. If anything, I had more open wounds for it to find. But I'm feeling fine."

Kimura asked one of the emergency response team that was now present in the room to check Reid's vitals.

"See…all normal," Reid summed them up for her. "I can't explain it. Unless…."

His eyes met Kimura's. _Unless my surviving the anthrax infection a few years ago gave me protective antibodies._ The top secret affair went unspoken between them, but each could see that the message had been received.

Kimura wasn't satisfied with that explanation. "So far, the CDC hasn't found any evidence of anthrax. NIH has a sample as well. Nothing."

Reid's mind was moving at lightning speed, pages of information virtually ruffling inside his brain.

"Could it be a different pathogen? A poison, maybe?"

Knowing that a poison could mimic an infection, could even produce a fever, provided it could precipitate the right chemical reaction within a person's body.

"They're checking for everything they can. But it's quite a long list, Dr. Reid. It may take a while."

"Well, we can't do nothing! She doesn't have 'a while'! She's obviously reacting already. We can't wait!"

Kimura waved his rising emotion down with her palm. "Of course, we won't wait. We'll start broad spectrum antibiotics and an antiviral. Otherwise, it will have to be supportive therapy, until we know exactly what we're dealing with. If it's any comfort, the fact that she's here, and we're on it so quickly, works in her favor."

Reid tried to settle himself with a deep breath, knowing Kimura and her staff were doing their best. _And they are the best._ His getting emotional wouldn't help anything, and might prove to be a distraction. But it was JJ, and his emotion would not be squelched.

Kimura saw it, and approached him. She'd grown fond of him during the anthrax episode a few years ago, and had experienced her own emotional reaction to his becoming infected. She sympathized now.

Laying a hand on his arm, she escorted him toward the door.

"Dr. Reid, I know this is frightening. But she's in very good hands. I think you might be able to help us think it through, but I need you to try to calm yourself. Do you think you can do that?"

Reid nodded. "I have to. She needs me."

Kimura agreed with him. "She needs the best from both of us."

Reid had another thought. "I need to call Hotch. He can get hold of Will." He turned helpless eyes to her. "But what do we tell him? That his wife may be dying? That Henry may lose his mother?"

* * *

"I don't know. Dr. Kimura says they're running every test they have. They've started treating for anything they can think it might be. But, Hotch, she was out of it. It was only a few hours from the last time we spoke, and she'd seemed okay then. Whatever it is, it's acting fast."

Aaron Hotchner had awakened to Reid's phone call, and was busy throwing on clothes as he spoke with his young agent.

"She's sure it's not anthrax?" It was the most studied method of proposed bioterrorism. And, although it was still, literally, a terror, much research had been done toward treating it.

"It's not any form they've encountered so far. She thinks it would have shown up in microscopic, if nothing else. They might be able to change some of the characteristics, but it's pretty hard to change the appearance. Kimura doubts it's anthrax."

Hotch remained uncertain. "But wouldn't that explain why you're not affected? Maybe you developed immunity after…" Realizing, even as he spoke, that Reid might not be affected…. _yet._

"That's what I thought too, but Kimura is pretty convinced. And it sounds like two people at the St. Elizabeth site developed coughs last night. They were on the fringes of where the powder fell, so they may have gotten a smaller inoculum than we did. But they're bringing them over, to monitor them."

"All right. I'll have Garcia call the team in. What do you need from us?"

Knowing that Reid wouldn't be released until they'd determined what was making JJ sick. And knowing that, even if released, he wouldn't agree to go.

There was a short silence on the other end of the phone as Reid tried to steady his voice for what he knew he needed to say.

"I hate to ask this, but… Hotch, Will doesn't know. He's on a Boy Scout camping trip with Henry. I think….."

Reid knew there was little chance Will would be permitted to see JJ until the CDC had identified the pathogen, but he also knew the man would never forgive him if Reid didn't make sure he was informed.

Hotch understood. "I'll take care of it."

"Tell him that I'll stay with her. Make sure he knows she's not alone."

Reid was aware of an undercurrent of intolerance from Will wherever he was concerned, but he thought the man might appreciate that JJ was being looked out for.

"Will do. I'm on my way in. We'll video you into the team meeting once everyone is gathered."

"Okay. I'm going to brainstorm with Kimura. There's got to be something that explains this."

* * *

Forty minutes later, Reid was in front of a laptop kindly loaned to him by Dr. Kimura herself.

"Oh, my sweet genius, are you okay?" Garcia sounded like she'd been crying.

"I'm fine, considering. What have you got?" He'd addressed it to the five team members on the other end of the connection.

Kate started them off. "The bus was definitely the detonation point for the bomb. It's not a definite yet, but they think it was in an instrument case."

"A musical instrument?"

"Yes. Specifically, a stringed instrument. They're still piecing things together, so all they can say is that it was larger than a violin, and smaller than a bass."

Reid made a mental inventory of orchestral instruments. "So, a viola…..or a cello." The latter creating a sickening feeling in his gut.

"They think. I guess certain guitar cases have the same kind of cushioning in them, so they can't rule that out either."

Morgan spoke up. "But they found a piece of the case with a remnant of a label. Had an 'ol' on it."

"As in 'school'?" asked Reid.

"As in anything that has an 'ol' in it," contributed Rossi, who'd learned long ago not to jump to conclusions.

Hotch broke into the conversation. "It was a city bus, not a school bus. But many schools only use school buses for their disabled population, or for attendees from other districts. Any other students are free to use city buses, and many get yearly passes for them."

"So it could have been a student?" It was a question, mostly because Reid was praying the answer was 'no'.

Kate fielded it. "From what I learned last week….yes. Lots of the kids there took the bus. Especially if they were carrying their instruments."

"But it could have been someone else, right? Anyone can carry an instrument case, right? Even if they don't play."

Reid knew he was reaching. They'd profiled young students and former students as possible suicide bombers. But his brain refused to wrap around a vision of Gary, or any of the other kids, as having perpetrated such a heinous thing.

Hotch recognized the young man's dilemma, and sympathized. But he wasn't paid for his sympathy.

"That's true, Reid. But we all know it's unlikely. This was probably the work of a young person who'd been brainwashed…..or threatened….into it."

Rossi heard Reid's anguish as well, and anticipated the next question. He answered it without it being asked.

"They have….remains…...but they haven't been able to identify them yet. From the DNA, they can say it was a male."

Reid took that in for a moment. He wasn't surprised at the sex of the suicide bomber, but he couldn't keep visions of the kids he'd mentored through chess out of his head. And that thought brought another vision into his mind. He hesitated a moment before bringing her up. But….

"Guys…..there's someone I should probably tell you about."

Once he started describing his initial meeting with Stephanie, Garcia turned bright red. Not being able to see it from his angle, Reid continued with his tale of meeting her in the park, and her connection to the chess kids, the school in question, and the cello. But Morgan could see it.

Reid heard the concern in his friend's voice as he asked, "Whoa, Baby Girl…..are you all right? You look sick."

"I'm ….. I don't feel so good."

The rest of the team heard Reid's voice through the connection. "It's all right, Garcia. I know. JJ and I talked about it."

"You did?!" Sounding incredulous.

None of the rest understood anything about the exchange. Rossi voiced it for all of them.

"I realize I'm getting older by the minute, but….did I miss something? Has my hearing gone completely?"

Morgan was still concerned about Garcia. "Baby Girl?"

She tried to rally. "I….we…well, the meeting with Stephanie Rowe…..it may not have been an accident. Exactly."

If the circumstance had been different, Reid might have let her hang out there a little longer. But JJ's life was in the balance, and the sooner they could find out what was wrong with her, the better their chances of helping her make it.

"Garcia, do you want me to…"

"No! No, thank you. But it's my fault, and …"

Hotch had long since learned that a stern word did much to stave off hysteria. "Garcia? We need an answer, and we need it now."

His strategy appeared to work. "Yes, sir! It's just that….well, she didn't really want me to do it, but I started looking into it, and it seemed so promising, and we didn't think he'd….you'd….ever have to know, so…."

"Garcia!" Hotch again.

"Okay, sorry. So, there's this web site called 'datemybestfrienddotcom', and you put in the characteristics of your best friend, and…."

Morgan moaned. "Tell me you didn't…."

Rossi's brows were up, totally bemused. "Garcia, did you…."

Kate laughed out loud, despite the gravity of the situation. "You put Spencer's profile in there?" _These guys are more amusing than I thought they'd be!_

Penelope Garcia was beet red by now. "I only meant to help…"she wailed.

Hotch saw the potential for the meeting to get out of control. "Garcia, no one is assigning blame about anything. We just need to understand what happened."

It took her another moment to collect herself, but Garcia, with an occasional assist from Reid, told the story.

"So _that's_ the woman I met at the school?" queried Kate. "The one who seemed to do so much good with the kids, teaching them music."

"She _did_ do a lot of good with them." Reid wasn't quite sure why he felt he should defend Stephanie. All he knew was that he was speaking the truth. "I know from playing chess with them that some of these kids had very little to go home to. She gave them something that brightened their lives."

Morgan cautioned him. "Don't forget, Pretty Boy…..the way they engender trust is to help the kids, at first. It doesn't rule them out as recruiters. Doesn't rule _her_ out."

Reid had trouble picturing Stephanie as anything but nurturing, especially considering their conversations in the coffee shop. But he had to acknowledge Morgan's point.

"Conceded. So, where does that leave us?"

Rossi answered for the group. "It leaves you in the hospital, we're told. No one under observation will be released for at least forty eight hours. The rest of us will be visiting the medical examiner and DHS's version of a criminal investigation unit. I guess you're in the best position to follow up on the attack on the first responders."

Reid acknowledged the point, but only partially. "The powder was delivered by a drone. It was small enough to have been a toy, but it was too facile for that. It eluded any attempts to grab it, and it actually ricocheted a bullet or two, if I remember correctly."

"We'll follow up with DHS on that, " advised Hotch. Then he remembered something. "Reid….JJ had just phoned me when the call went dead yesterday. Do you know what she wanted?"

Reid was surprised he'd forgotten to tell his boss yesterday, but chalked it up to his concussion.

"She wanted to ask you for a team meeting. I went back through most of the recent chatter yesterday morning. I'd concluded that they would be attacking a communications hub, like New York or LA. And that they might also be interested in making a 'statement'."

The rest understood the implications.

"Well, I guess we know what the 'statement' was, don't we?" Morgan couldn't keep the vitriol from his voice.

But Rossi had heard the rest as well. "We'll alert the teams in the communications centers. They might go for a physical assault, but, given that it's communications…..it sounds like we should also anticipate a cyberattack, don't you think?" Reid couldn't see the look Rossi was sending to their technical analyst.

Immensely grateful for a way to redeem herself, Garcia was quick to respond. "I'm on it. Garcia over and out!" And she went running from the round table room, and toward her computer lair.

Hotch was about to end the call when he heard some commotion on the other end of the connection.

"Dr. Reid!" they all heard through the computer connection. "Come quickly! She's awake, but her respiratory status is deteriorating….she can barely breathe!"


	27. Chapter 27

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 27**

"We've gotten her temp down, and her blood pressure up. That's what's brought her around. But I'm afraid her respiratory status is deteriorating rapidly." Kimura's voice was tight, as she barked out an order to increase the oxygen.

"Is she lucid?"

"See for yourself." Kimura stepped aside to give Reid passage to JJ's bedside.

The head of her bed was all the way up now, and she was leaning forward, obviously trying to find a position of comfort for breathing. The nasal cannula had been replaced by a full oxygen mask, but Reid could see that she was still working hard to get air in. Her hospital gown clung to her, drenched in sweat.

"JJ?"

She turned to look at him, her eyes almost wild with fright. That she wasn't totally herself was obvious when she started trying to climb from the bed, clutching for Reid. He grabbed her hands and sat her back down.

"It's all right. I'm here. You're going to be all right. Just try to take slow, deep breaths, okay? Here, I'll do it with you." And he tried to find a pace, and a depth, that he thought might work for her.

JJ's hands were clamped onto his, the depth of her fear evident in the vise-like nature of her grip. Despite that, Reid took comfort in it, as an indication that she was still strong, still able to beat whatever it was that was trying to kill her. But what he felt with his hands was one thing; his eyes told him a different story. He couldn't help but see the flaring of her nostrils, the struggle at her chest, the dulling of the pink inner lining of her lips. Even without being a clinician, Reid knew he was looking at impending respiratory failure. He sent Kimura a pleading look.

"What else can you do for her?"

Kimura still had that 'in-charge' stance of a moment ago, but she managed to soften her voice, trying to lessen the blow.

"We can breathe for her, if we need to. For as long as we need to."

JJ didn't appear to understand the meaning of the words, another indication to Reid that she wasn't fully alert. But Reid understood. Kimura had just told them that she might have to put JJ on a ventilator.

It hit Reid like a blow. He'd been intubated himself, during his anthrax ordeal. He remembered vividly the struggle for breath that came before….. the tightness, the pressure, the sensation of drowning from within….and he saw the same struggle on the face of his beloved best friend.

_Why couldn't it have been me? If it had to be one of us, why couldn't You have chosen me? Because it might have given me what I wanted? Are You that vindictive?_

For the first time in his life, Reid wished himself to be a true believer, if only so he could have it out with the Almighty, rather than having to attribute the situation to some inexplicable vagary of fate. But then he found the anger within him slowly transforming into a sense of guilt. He'd been so willing to give up on life, and here, it was JJ who was in danger of losing hers. The thought that she might not live to see Henry grow up, or that Henry might have to grow up without his mother, sickened Reid. And it shocked him into a major change in attitude.

_I can't think so little of my own life when I value hers so much. Is that what I'm supposed to understand?_

He tried to argue his case.

_But my life doesn't have the same impact as hers. My mother wouldn't even realize I was gone….not for a good, long while. Dad wouldn't find out until the new Google hits stopped coming. It's really just Henry…..and he has JJ. The team would get over it and move on. It wouldn't impact anyone else. No one else would care…..except…._

Except JJ. She'd as much as told him the central role he played in her life. The uniqueness of their relationship, how different it was from the one she had with Will.

_JJ would miss me. She would need me. Just like I need her._

Despite the internal conversation he'd been having, Reid still wasn't certain about the Deity. But he was certain of JJ, and his love for her.

_If she wants me around, she'll have me. I'll stick it out with life as long as I have to. All right? Is that what You wanted to hear?_

He spoke his next words aloud. "It's all right, JJ. Just breathe in, and breathe out. That's it, don't force it. Just take a breath in, the best you can, and breathe back out."

He repeated it, over and over again, like a mantra, remembering the sense of panic he'd felt when in the same situation, and determined to spare her from it.

Her eyes seemed to fix on his, as though the gaze that connected them was a lifeline. She was too breathless to speak, but her facial expressions articulated all she needed.

Reid read them, in succession, and responded.

"We don't know what it is, yet. Dr. Kimura doesn't think it's anthrax, but the fact that I haven't gotten sick keeps it on the list of possibilities. She's given you antibiotics and an antiviral. No matter what it is, you're in good hands. If you're going to get sick, there's no better place than a hospital, right?"

Hoping to see just the smallest smile. But she was too exhausted from trying to breathe. Her lips couldn't manage the upward arc.

Reid understood her next unspoken question as well. "Hotch is trying to reach Will. He'll tell him."

When she seemed agitated by that, he thought he understood why.

"Don't worry. I don't think he'll tell Henry until you're well on the road to recovery. Henry won't see you like this. I don't think they'll let any outsiders visit until they're sure what it is, anyway."

She seemed only slightly relieved at that, concerning Reid that he'd misunderstood. "Is it Henry? Is there something else about Henry?"

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Are you worried he'll be scared if he knows you're in the hospital?"

She shook her head, and fumbled with the oxygen mask. "Take…..care…"

"Take care?"

She seemed frustrated, and tried once again, panting as she did. "Re…mem….ber…."

"You want me to remember to tell him something? Or Will?"

She was too tired to do anything else but pant the words once again. "Re….mem….ber…. me."

* * *

If minutes seemed like hours, then hours seemed like days. Reid felt like he'd been watching JJ struggle for every breath for days on end. It felt like torture just to watch her, but he was resolved to be with her every minute _. If I think it's bad to watch, I can only imagine what it feels like to live it._

She was considerably less agitated than she had been, more from exhaustion than anything else, and her breathing began to slow down. Reid took it as a good sign until the nurse summoned Dr. Kimura urgently.

Reid saw the tension back on the infectious disease specialist's face and was concerned. "She seems like she's a little better, doesn't she? She's struggling less than before, and her breathing is slower, and…"

"Dr. Reid, I'm afraid that, in this case, those aren't good signs. Agent Jareau's breathing is more shallow and slow because she's worn out. Her oxygen was up a bit before, but it's fallen again. She's in respiratory failure. I'm sorry, but I have no choice."

Reid understood. "You need to intubate her."

"Yes. Don't worry. We've called our intubation team. They're quite experienced."

Reid had stood to speak with Kimura. Now he moved back over to the bed, taking JJ's hand and staring down at her as he directed his words to the physician.

"I'm not worried about the intubation. I'm worried about getting her well enough to take the tube back out again. Do we have any new information on what's causing this?" Knowing that assisted ventilation was not a permanent solution, despite Kimura's earlier statement. He knew she was only trying to offer comfort.

"Nothing yet from CDC. NIH is focusing on the poisoning possibilities."

"What about the other possible victims?"

"Cough and myalgias, no fevers, no other systemic symptoms."

Their conversation was interrupted when the intubation team arrived and announced that Reid would have to leave the room during the procedure.

"We're sorry, Mr. Jareau. Only medical personnel can be in the room while we're working. It will be up to Dr. Kimura to decide if your wife can have visitors afterward."

Reid didn't bother trying to correct them. He simply played his part, bending over JJ and lifting her chin to him. "I'll be right outside. It will be all right. They're going to help you. Okay?"

His already-broken heart split further as he saw a tear escape her left eye. Reid cupped her face in his hand and used his thumb to wipe away the droplet. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, then whispered into her ear.

"I love you. And I need you. You're my AC, remember? You're my anam cara."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Kimura found him back in his own hospital room, seated on the side of his bed, staring out the window. She knocked softly on the open door before entering.

"Dr. Reid?"

He turned a tear-stained face toward her. "Is it done?"

Kimura acknowledged his emotion with her own sad smile. "It is. Everything went smoothly. She's sedated, and she seems comfortable. And her numbers are improving."

Reid swallowed thickly and nodded. "Thank you." He turned back to the window, needing a moment to thank the One he'd been railing at just a moment ago. Kimura recognized the stance from long experience, and waited him out. Then she broke the silence.

"I've been reviewing Agent Jareau's test results with a colleague at the CDC."

That got Reid's immediate attention. He turned himself on the bed. "And?"

"Everything looks viral….her blood count, her chest x-ray, the negative blood cultures…so far, there's no indication that this is bacterial."

"So…definitely not anthrax?"

"So it seems."

"But….why am I not affected? Why JJ? And what about the others?"

Kimura responded to the last question first. "One of the others has now spiked a fever. So far, his respiratory status is stable. But it does look like he's developing something."

"But there were probably eighty of us out there. How is it that only three have become ill? And why is JJ so sick with it? Even if the powder was unevenly distributed…. _I was right next to her_. We had the same exposure."

"That's…"

Reid spoke right over her, remembering. "No, actually we didn't. I was exposed longer. JJ was the first to wash it off. I remember, because…." It hit him. "Oh, God….."

Kimura reacted to his distress. "What is it, Dr. Reid?"

"She helped me. I was having trouble moving because of the wounds to my back, and she helped me wash. I asked her if I should do the same for her, and she laughed it off, said she was still able to wash herself. And I was _relieved_."

The ID specialist tried to assure him. "There's no reason to think that the particles on her back would have been able to infect her. She has no open wounds there. And, besides, while an open wound would increase the chance of absorption, it's much more likely that this particular pathogen works through inhalation."

"Which brings us back to the beginning. Why am I not affected? We breathed the same air." An image came to him, again of JJ helping him wash. "Except in the dry cleaners. Maybe that's why. Because she lifted her shirt over her head to remove it, while I had to let mine fall back behind me. She brought the powder right up to her nose and mouth!"

Kimura was uncertain. "Possibly. It might explain why she became ill so quickly, and more severely, than the others. But the epidemiologist in me wants to understand both sides of the phenomenon. We have a theory as to why Agent Jareau is so ill. But I'd also like to consider why _you_ are not ill at all. Is there something in your medical history….some illness you may have had, something from which you recovered…..that has rendered you immune?"

Reid could only shrug. "The sickest I've ever been was with the anthrax. It's all I can remember."

"What about when you were younger? Might there have been something in your childhood?"

"Not that I know of."

"Is it possible you could call your parents? Maybe they'll remember something."

Yet another unexpected piece of fallout from the childhood he'd had. It would take too long to explain why, so all Reid said was, "No."

* * *

Penelope Garcia's fingers were virtually flying over several keyboards at once. Her 'hacker hands' were rapidly finding their old rhythm, and her concentration was total. Sure, she'd hacked into many a 'closed' system during her years with the BAU. But she hadn't had to rely on quite the same depth of accumulated skills for those forays. Now, and without fear of legal repercussions, she attempted every hack she knew on the nation's communications networks. Past experience had taught her how to recognize when she was encountering a parallel attempt. _That_ would be today's pay dirt.

She was on her third major over-the-air network when her phone sounded Morgan's ringtone.

"Hit me."

"This isn't Sam, Garcia."

"Ha, ha. Derek, how can you even try to be funny at a time like this?"

She could hear his sigh through the phone. "Just trying to help us remember what normal is like, Baby Girl, that's all."

She sniffed in apology. "I'm afraid things will never be normal again. What if JJ…"

"Let's not do the what-ifs, okay? We can help JJ best by getting the job done."

He was right, and she'd been doing just that, before. "All right. What did you need me for?"

"See if you can get someone from transit, someone who's familiar with the route. We need their best guess on how many riders they might have on a typical day, and how many of them were kids."

She could hear the gravity in his voice. "What did the medical examiner say?"

He heaved another great sigh. "In total, thirty eight dead, most of them from the bus and the first two floors of the DHS building. The ones that were found on the bus were burned beyond recognition, so they're waiting for families to report them missing, see if they can match by dental records. They may be able to give us ages and sexes at autopsy, but if this was a suicide bombing, we need the full ID. And CSI can't tell how many might have been thrown from their positions by the explosion, so they're not sure if some of the other bodies were from the bus, or the building, or if they were just pedestrians, passing by on the street."

"Like JJ….oh, my God, Derek, what about Henry? What if he loses..."

"Take it easy, Baby Girl. Have you heard anything more from Reid?"

"Not yet. I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"How about we just keep focusing until we find out what we need to know? Do you think you can do that?"

"Of course I can. I'll call the transit authority and find you a source. Just…..be careful, okay?"

None of them were certain the assault on the first responders was the last thing planned. It was entirely possible there would be additional terror strikes at the scene of the explosion, or related scenes.

"Will do. Talk to you later."

Garcia barely closed the call when a second BAU ring tone sounded.

"Reid! Is she okay? Is JJ okay?"

He wasn't going to add to Garcia's panic. Sharing only a partial truth, Reid responded, "She's stable."

"Oh, thank God." ' _Stable' is good, right?_ "What do you need, Beloved Boy Genius?"

"I need you to look through some of the medical literature for me. I can read through it quickly enough, but finding it will take me time we don't have."

She heard what he'd left out, before. "She's not really doing better, is she?"

Reid gave in. "She's intubated. On a ventilator. So, for now, her breathing isn't an issue. But she can't stay like that forever. We need to figure out what this is, and the best treatment for it. Can you help me?"

"Of course! Of course I can! What do I do?"

"Cross reference 'interstitial pneumonia' with 'viral', then with 'fungal' and then with 'chemical'. Find me everything you can, newest to oldest. The quicker the better."

"On it. Do you have your tablet with you?"

Ouch. His love of paper and hardcover spines was coming back to haunt him. He'd go blind trying to read it all on his phone. Reid decided.

"Send it to Kimura's laptop. It's the one we conferenced on this morning."

"Will do."

* * *

"Yeah, Hotch. The best transit could do was to find a substitute who filled in for the regular driver's vacation in August. But that was before school started. He thinks there were usually about 15 passengers on the bus at that point, which means there could have been twenty or so kids. Or not. We can't tell."

Hotch heard the frustration in his agent's voice. "All right. Callahan is at the school, meeting with the principal. They've compiled a list of students who missed school yesterday and are trying to reach all of the families now. Seven have already reported their children missing. But there are at least six more whose families haven't been heard from."

"So we don't know if they were sick or on the bus, or just skipping school."

"Exactly. She'll try to weed through it. In the meantime, Rossi has been working with Hirsch to bring DHS on board with Reid's theory about a pending attack on the communications hubs."

Hotch sounded frustrated as well. "No takers, huh?"

"Bureaucracy. They didn't come up with it, so they don't want to admit the idea has merit. Right now, as far as I know, Garcia is the only one trying to investigate it."

"Well, then…it's in good hands. Any word from Reid?"

Hotch filled Morgan in on JJ's medical status. "Reid and Kimura are looking into case reports, trying to find something that fits the situation."

"Is the Kid still all right?"

"His health seems to be fine," said Hotch, not really answering the question.

* * *

The room was silent, except for the humming of the electronic devices.

Dr. Kimura worked at her PC while Reid sat hunched over on a settee in her office, her laptop open on the seat next to him. Every so often, she looked away from her monitor to watch his hand travel quickly down the notebook screen, his eyes barely moving back and forth from center. She'd learned of his intellectual prowess when they'd first met a few years back, but she'd not quite seen it in action until today.

Kimura checked her watch and started to push her chair back. "I need to check on Agent Jareau. She was starting to lighten the last time I rounded. That may mean she's awake now. Would you like to join me?"

He broke his eyes away from the material on his screen. "I would. But I think I can help her more by getting through this." Another moment's thought nearly changed his mind. "But I don't want her to be frightened. Should I?"

Kimura took pity on his indecision, knowing it came from his heart. "I'll go, you stay. If she's awake, I'll come back and send you to her."

He gave a quick grin. "Thanks." And was immediately back to the material before him. Two journals farther along, he saw something. He skimmed through the rest of the article and sat back, thinking. Trying to remember, then realizing there might not be anything _to_ remember. And that it didn't matter.

A minute later, Kimura was back, a dissatisfied look on her face. "No better. Her O2 sat has fallen a bit, but it's still acceptable. As long as she doesn't fall further…."

Reid could barely contain himself. "I think I found it! I think I know what it is, and I know why I'm not sick!"


	28. Chapter 28

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 28**

"Hantavirus?"

"Yes! It causes interstitial pneumonia with fevers and myalgias. And it can be spread through aerosolization!"

Kimura looked at him with caution. Keeping her gaze steady, she pointed out what she thought he should already know. "And it's fatal in…."

The instant deflation told her that he _did_ know. "Thirty eight percent of cases. But that's for HPS, right? Hantavirus Pulmonary Syndrome?"

Kimura spoke to him as she would one of her medical students. "Dr. Reid, if this is caused by hantavirus, then HPS is precisely what Agent Jareau has." She waited a moment for it to sink in, then asked the obvious question.

"Why, exactly, are you thinking that you didn't become ill along with her?"

Some excitement returned to his voice. "I grew up in the southwest, in Las Vegas. It's not exactly the Four Corners area, but hanta has been reported all over the region. I didn't think it was a possibility at first, but then….well, there were those cases last year, in…."

"Yosemite. Yes, I read about them. It was very interesting. Until then, it was thought that nearly every case of hantavirus disease was serious."

"Right. But, when the CDC investigated the outbreak at Yosemite, they found a number of park workers who'd developed antibodies without any history of illness. The article says they suspect there are quite a few subclinical cases out there."

Kimura studied him. "And you're thinking you might be one of them."

"Can't we find out? Can I be tested?"

She started to nod as she grabbed for her phone. "Let's see if we can get Agent Jareau tested first. The CDC would have gotten to hanta eventually, but it would be pretty low on their list of priorities. Let's see if we can move it up to the top."

* * *

Kate had been at the school since before the opening bell, interviewing teachers and students. Several sets of worried parents had made their way to her borrowed guidance counselor's office as well. The emotional tension was high all around, and it left Kate feeling exhausted.

She'd just been preparing to close the door for a moment, savoring the idea of refreshing herself with a cup of coffee brought to her by a sympathetic school secretary. But, it seemed, it wasn't to be. The door was stopped mid-swing by the flat of someone's hand. Kate gave an internal sigh and pulled it back open. She was caught off guard to see that her visitor was a very concerned looking Stephanie Rowe.

"You?!" Apparently Stephanie was caught off guard as well. She'd come to the school, worried about her music students, aware that many of them rode the city bus to school. Upon her arrival, she'd been told that a representative of the FBI was conducting interviews, and she'd headed straight in that direction. But she hadn't expected the FBI agent to be Kate Callahan, the substitute teacher.

Kate shrugged. "Guilty."

"But, why?"

"Why was I here, undercover?"

Stephanie nodded.

"I can't really share too much about it. Just that we had reason to believe it would be a good idea to get to know some of the people here a little better."

Stephanie's face reflected both doubt and concern. Then it dawned on her. "Are you saying that you think someone from this school could be responsible for the explosion? One of the kids?" Her volume had risen with vehemence.

Kate waved her down. "We don't know anything right now, except that we have students who are unaccounted for. Did you want to help us with that?" Trying to redirect some of the musician's emotional energy.

Stephanie made a visible effort to calm herself.

_You're angry at the situation, not this FBI agent. Get a grip, Steph._

"All right. I don't see how I can help, but, of course, I'm willing to do anything I can."

Kate gave her a small smile as she nodded. "Good. Then maybe you can look at these names and tell me if you have worked with any of these kids. None of them were at school yesterday, and the principal hasn't been able to reach their parents."

Kate held her breath as Stephanie perused the names, some accompanied by the latest school portrait. The cellist couldn't know the significance of her task, as the information about the explosive device being found in an instrument case hadn't been released to the public. But Kate knew that Stephanie's identification of one of the missing children as having taken music lessons from her might give the case a major boost. She alerted when Stephanie gasped.

"What is it?"

"Oh, my God. I know two of these kids. This one….Jose Martinez. And this one, Gary Wu."

"How do you know them? Did they take lessons with you?"

Stephanie nodded, her eyes filling. "Yes. Both of them. They both took the cello. Jose was still with me, but Gary…he dropped out."

"Dropped out of school, or out of music lessons?"

"Just the music, I think. He was so smart….so good…."

Kate felt for her. "We don't know that anything happened to them yet. They might be fine. We only know that they weren't in school, and we haven't been able to find out why."

"But… could they have been on that bus? Could they have been in the explosion?"

_They could have_ caused _the explosion, hon._ But Kate couldn't say it aloud.

"We don't know. I'm sorry, but that's all I can tell you about it."

_Except…. Should I tell her about Spencer? There's not really any reason to withhold the information…..unless he'd rather she not know._

Kate was on the fence about it, until Stephanie asked her one more question.

"Agent Callahan….I have a …..friend….who also works for the FBI. He knows the kids, too. Could you make sure he knows they're missing? My friend's name is Spencer Reid."

* * *

Reid had just hung up from updating Hotch when his phone sounded again.

"Spencer Reid."

"Spencer." The New Orleans drawl was thick today. "What the hell, Spencer? What the hell happened?"

Reid sank back down and closed his eyes. This was a conversation he'd dreaded.

"No one's told you anything?"

"A Statie came out to the campground and told me my wife was in the hospital. I called as soon as I had cell service, but they wouldn't give me any information, said I had to speak with her doctor. So I told them to put the doctor on, and some damn nurse said she couldn't, because the doctor was in conference with _Dr. Reid_! What the hell, Spencer? What's wrong with my wife?!"

Reid tried to convince himself that Will was just emotionally distraught, and not really angry with him. He spoke softly and evenly as he recounted for Will the events of the day before.

"Are you saying she's been infected with some sort of bioterrorism agent?"

Quietly. "It looks that way, yes."

"And no one knows what it is?"

"That's what Dr. Kimura and I were meeting about. We may have an idea, but they need to run some tests."

"And…is there a treatment? Will JJ be okay?" The steam had gone out of him. Will didn't sound angry now. Just emotionally spent.

Reid heard it, and sympathized, because he knew he was about to tell Will something he wouldn't want to hear.

"Will…..there is no specific treatment. If we're right, it's a virus, but none of the known antivirals work against it. All they can do is to support her breathing, and try to keep her vital signs stable, until her body is able to fight it off."

There ensued a long silence, during which Reid knew exactly what must be happening with Will. Because it had happened with him, a few hours ago, when Kimura had given him the bad news.

Finally, Will seemed to find his voice. "There's nothing else they can do? Spencer…am I going to lose her?"

Reid couldn't find his voice either. Will had just articulated what the young FBI agent had forbidden himself to even think about.

"Spencer?"

Reid cleared his throat. "If you believe in prayer, Will…..now is the time to use it."

He could hear a choked sob on the other end of the phone. When Will could speak again, he announced, "I'm on my way to the hospital. I'll be there in thirty minutes."

Reid had more bad news. "Will, she's in isolation. They won't let you visit. Not until they've identified the pathogen. They can't risk anyone else being exposed."

Fury back again. "Are you serious? My wife may be dying and they won't let me see her? The hell with that! I don't want her to be left alone!"

Reid knew Will would have mixed feelings, but he told him anyway. "I've been with her, and I was just about to go back when you called. I'm already exposed, so Kimura's okay with it."

The mixed feelings came spewing out, not quite so mixed. "So _you_ can be with my wife and I can't? Jesus! I'll bet that suits you just fine!"

Reid told himself it was just the fear talking, that Will didn't really feel that way about his relationship with JJ.

"Will….."

"Forget I said that. I'm sorry, Spencer. I just….. Nevermind." After another pause, he added, "Tell her I love her, okay? Tell her that everything's gonna be fine, and I'll see her as soon as they let me. I'll set up camp in that damn hospital lobby if I have to."

Reid could just picture it, and was sure Will meant exactly what he said. "I'll tell her. I'll make sure she knows. And, Will…..Henry?"

"He's still at the campground. His friend Toby's dad said they could take him until they hear from me. Little Man thinks it's something from my work, that's all. Doesn't know it's his Momma."

Reid breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the reprieve might only be temporary. "Okay. Will…..I'm sorry. About all of it. But I'll do my best to make sure she's not alone, or frightened. I promise."

"Can't ask for more, Spencer. Thank you."

* * *

The test results wouldn't be known for a few hours, according to Kimura. The blood had to be shuttled over to the NIH, where their microbiology lab was set up to look for the more unusual pathogens. Reid had convinced her to run his own sample simultaneously with JJ's, to save time. But, for now, there was just a void of waiting. And he knew where he wanted to spend it.

She would have been moved to the ICU, where the usual custom was five minutes of visitation per hour. But the need for isolation prevailed, so their 'private' ward had been equipped with all the necessary tools and machinery. And Reid could sit with JJ for as long as he liked.

He nodded to a nurse who was exiting the room just as he entered, then moved over and pulled a chair up to the bedside. JJ had apparently had moments of consciousness, interspersed with longer periods of sleep. _It's no wonder_ , thought Reid. _She used up a week's worth of energy just trying to get a few hours of air before the tube went in._ Now, the ventilator filled her lungs with superoxygenated air fifteen times per minute, accomplishing something her own lungs were failing at. Reid prayed it was enough.

She appeared to be sleeping at the moment, but her brow still held a furrow or two, telling Reid that she wasn't entirely comfortable. But her color was good, and the monitors on the other side of the bed told him that her vital signs were all stable. Reid reached out and stroked his fingers through the hair that was splayed out beside her pillow, grasping her hand with his other.

For a few minutes, he just sat there, staring at her, as his mind presented him a full reel of shared moments from their lives. The first time they met, the time he asked her to go to the football game with him. The actual game, which always made him blush. The trauma of his kidnapping and torture, and the relief of their reunion. Fast-forwarding, as it would, to the more recent trauma of her own kidnapping and torture, and the sweetness of relief to see her again. The day he realized she was in a relationship, the day he learned she was pregnant, the day she married Will LaMontagne. The day Henry was born, and his two thousand mile trip to see her in the hospital. The absolute surprise, and utter elation, at being invited into her family as Henry's godfather.

The image of Henry brought him back to the present, to the potential for true, permanent heartbreak.

_I can't let it happen. But I don't know what to do, except to be here. And to pray. But I don't trust You!_

He'd had too many episodes of desperate, seemingly unanswered prayer, to believe otherwise.

Reid turned back to JJ, back to the thoughts of all they'd shared together. The little moments…. visits to the park with Henry, a few million cups of coffee in various police precincts and FBI offices around the country, countless conversations on the plane. The momentous occasions, so many of which pertained to loss. When she'd been banished to the Pentagon, seemingly forever. When she'd returned to help the team during Emily's ordeal. When she'd comforted him on the loss of Emily. When he'd confronted her on the lie.

As it always did, emotion rose in him at that particular memory. It had never occurred to him that he would argue with her like that. That he _could_ argue with her like that. But the fact of it, and the passion behind it, had, paradoxically, brought them here, to this new kind of intimacy. They'd had to lose each other, and find each other again, to get here.

_And I'm not prepared to lose you again. Not now. Not this way._

His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. Reid turned to see Kimura standing there.

"You were right. It's hantavirus. They were able to find it with PCR testing. And you were right about yourself, too. You already have antibodies. You must have had it as a child, even if it was a mild case. You're immune."

They'd already discussed that there was no specific treatment for it. But there were other implications.

"What does that mean about the need for isolation?" Thinking of Will, and his intention to set up camp in the lobby.

"There is no known person-to-person transmission. So, if the rest of the tests are negative, we can lift the isolation."

"The rest of what tests?"

Kimura was being practical. "We know what infected Agent Jareau. But that doesn't mean it was the only pathogen in the powder. This ward will remain isolated until the CDC has finished running tests for everything."

It meant he was going to have to find a way to help his team from the confines of the hospital. Reid knew he needed to fill his unit chief in on the test results.

"Will you be here for a few minutes? I just….I don't want her to wake up and be alone."

Kimura smiled. "I'll make sure she's got someone here until you get back."

Reid thanked her, then bent over and kissed JJ's forehead. "I'll be right back, Sleeping Beauty. Wait for me."

* * *

"Yes. Well, I don't know. It's only my best guess, but, judging from how few of the people exposed have become ill, I would say it was probably a pretty low concentration of pathogen. It's almost like it was an amateur effort. Like they swept up a bunch of rodent droppings and hoped for the best."

"Can we know that?" Rossi was with Hotch.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, can we find out if this was just the spraying around of a bunch of droppings, or if this was something made in a lab?"

Reid shook his head in self-disgust. "I must be more addled than I thought. You're right, Rossi. I'm sure the labs can figure that out. I'll talk to Kimura."

"Should we be focusing on the Southwest?" This was from Hotch.

"I don't know. It's where hanta was first described, but there have been cases reported all over, and the known carriers can be found in many biogeographical areas."

"Think like an unsub, Reid." Rossi encouraged. "Or, more specifically, like a terrorist unsub. An amateur one, as you pointed out."

Reid knew where Rossi was directing him. "You think they'd go for the obvious. That they would have collected their samples from the most infected areas, whether or not they refined them in the lab. That we _should_ be looking at whoever's been active in the Southwest."

"Bingo."

Reid was silent long enough for Hotch to wonder why. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that this was either an amateur effort, or, just as we profiled, a statement. That maybe they threw something into the powder just to make a point, without intending that it would actually hurt anyone. Think about it. Even with thirty eight fatalities, it's a pretty small scale for a terrorist strike. I think this is all just a preamble. I think there's something much bigger yet to come."

Rossi saw the logic of it, and agreed. But he also saw the irony.

"You're saying young JJ's life is in the balance by accident."

"Not by accident." Reid was bitter now. "By wanton disregard. They didn't care, one way or the other. Her life doesn't matter to them, one way or the other. All they wanted to do was to make a point."

_And, by God, if I get the chance, I want to make it right back to them._

* * *

He took up vigil at JJ's bedside once again, noticing that she seemed be moving her limbs a little more, an indication that she was becoming more awake. Reid stared at her eyelids until they began to flutter.

"Hey, JJ….it's me. It's Spence. I'm right here, if you want to open your eyes." He took one hand in his, and laid the other atop her head, readying his smile for her.

Slowly, she managed to get her eyes open, and then tried to turn her head to look at him, foiled by the tube in her throat and the various and sundry other tubes and wires attached to it, and her.

"Here, I'll move. You won't have to turn your head." He moved from the chair and sat lightly on the edge of her bed, leaning over her so that his face was in a straight line for her gaze.

"That better?"

She nodded slightly, moving her head only as far as the equipment would allow.

"Do you know where you are?"

Another small nod.

"And do you understand about the breathing tube?"

She started to nod, but ended up moving her head back and forth.

"No? Okay, I'll explain. Do you remember having a lot of trouble breathing?" Small nod again. "Well, you were working so hard that you were tiring out. So the tube allows the machine to do most of the work for you. But you should be able to breathe around it. And, when your own breaths start working better, the tube can come out."

He watched as she seemed to experiment, and noticed her take several breaths on her own, in between the mechanical ones of the ventilator. But he was disappointed to see her wince each time.

"It hurts? Okay, don't worry. You're probably still just sore from before." Thinking he needed to find Kimura and ask what it _really_ meant.

He felt JJ's fingers turn in his hand, as she began to stroke it, her only way of expressing her gratitude for his being there.

"I told you I wouldn't leave you, and I meant it. And I promised Will, as well."

Her eyes widened at the mention of her husband's name.

"Yes, he knows. I spoke with him before. They won't let him visit until they're sure we're not contagious."

He read the concern on her face. "Don't worry, Henry is still camping. He doesn't know anything."

JJ closed her eyes in relief. When she opened them again, they held a question. Reid mused on how well he knew her expressions, that he could carry on this one-sided conversation with such confident accuracy.

"Yes, we just found out. You've been infected with the hantavirus. It's been mostly reported in the desert southwest, but it can be found elsewhere as well. Kimura ran some tests. It looks like I may have had a mild case when I was a child, so I'm immune."

She raised her brow to ask what could be done.

"You're getting the best there is. They'll support your respiration with the ventilator, and supplement your oxygen for as long as you require it."

He could see she was underwhelmed with the plan, and knew she'd been hoping to hear there was some kind of drug that could be used. So had he.

"Don't worry. You're strong, and they're very good here. We just have to be patient. And, I promise, I won't leave you alone, even if you want me to." He smiled at her.

She tried to smile around the tube, but couldn't. So she just squeezed his hand, instead.

* * *

An hour later, Dr. Kimura had news. She summoned Reid out into the hallway.

"I've just looked at her latest numbers. She's gotten a little worse, I'm afraid. It's not unexpected. Most patients get sicker before they get better."

"Even the thirty eight percent?" The ones who eventually died.

Kimura didn't answer him. "We've got her on the right supports. We just need to give it time, Dr. Reid."

He didn't think he had that kind of patience in him. Not where JJ was concerned.

"What if that's all the time she has? We have to do something. What about me? Can't we transfer some of my antibodies to her?"

Kimura squinted at him. "You mean, with a transfusion?"

"Why not? It worked for those Ebola cases, didn't it?"

She seemed to be considering it. "We'd have to see if your blood types matched….."

"I'm O positive….almost a universal donor. I'm pretty sure she's A positive." A random factoid he'd memorized from her pregnancy with Henry, when he'd wanted to calculate the odds of his godson developing jaundice.

Kimura looked at him, then appeared to come down on one side of the issue. "All right. We'll run the blood tests to confirm. But, as long as you're compatible, we'll give it a try."


	29. Chapter 29

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 29**

"Could be they're using a cult compound as a cover. Or maybe just doing business with one."

Rossi'd had several rounds of experience with the quasi-religious groups that separated themselves from the prevailing society, both culturally and geographically.

"Doing business?" queried Kate.

"It's possible they're using the cults for services, or supplies."

Kate nodded, understanding. "Like rodent droppings."

"Ick!" Garcia tried to shiver the thought away. "I _hate_ mice, and rats, and….and anything with beady eyes and a tail! I don't know how they could make a business out of collecting their droppings!"

"You know," said Rossi, "I remember reading a few years back that there was someone on Long Island who caught it, cleaning out his basement."

"What happened to him?" Garcia demanded to know.

Hotch had already discussed all of this with Reid. "He died. Thirty-eight percent of all people infected with it die."

The unit chief didn't want to think about the odds any more than he knew the rest of them did. But he also didn't believe they should shield themselves from anything. If they were going to lose one of their number, it shouldn't come as a surprise. Any kind of loss was stunning, and tragic. But the sudden, unexpected kind had more potential for throwing them off kilter. And, just now, no one in the country could afford for that to happen. Better for them to come to terms with reality gradually, to give them time to adjust.

_And better to have more of us praying that our reality will lie with the sixty two percent,_ he thought.

Morgan placed his hand over Garcia's when he saw her tear up yet again. "She's got a good chance, Baby Girl. She was already at the hospital when she got sick. And, just maybe, the Kid will be able to save her."

"He said Dr. Kimura was optimistic that he'd be able to give his blood," offered Kate, purposely leaving out the part where he'd said Kimura wasn't sure it would work.

Garcia was surprised. "When did you speak with him?" They hadn't had a recent update from Reid, and Penelope was maybe just a little bit jealous that it was Kate he'd spoken with.

The newest BAU agent clarified. "I called him a while ago, to ask if he would speak with Stephanie." She explained her interaction with the musician at the school earlier today.

Morgan was interested. "So, she might know these kids who were on the bus? And she thinks Reid might know them as well?"

"How's that for 'it's a small world'?" mused Rossi.

"Well, she said they both know two of the kids who are still unaccounted for. We don't know for sure that they were on the bus. But, at least for a while, both of them took cello lessons from her."

"Ah," said Rossi, "the instrument case."

Kate nodded. "The instrument case."

Morgan had a thought. "I worked with a lot of kids in under-resourced schools back in Chicago. Granted, they didn't exactly have huge programs for them, but they did have bands. One of the high schools even tried to pull an orchestra together. But most of the kids couldn't even afford to rent their instruments, so the only time they practiced was when they were at school."

"What are you thinking?" asked Hotch.

"I'm thinking that the district served by this bus route would be pretty similar, economically. Can we find out which kids had instruments at home, and which just used them at school?"

"I can find out!" Garcia jumped from her seat, glad for something concrete to do. Hacking all day, without trying to _actually_ hack, was a tiring exercise. Boring, even. Which had left her plenty of time to worry about the fate of her best girlfriend. She hugged Morgan from behind as she passed him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, my liege! You've saved me from myself!"

Rossi's amused smile followed her out of the room. "It's a good thought, and I'm glad she's looking into it. But what's to say someone didn't just carry the case onto the bus, knowing they'd _look_ like a student heading for band practice? I think we need to keep our options open about who this might have been."

Morgan managed a combined shrug and nod, in acknowledgement of Rossi's point. "You're right. But, here's something I don't get. How is it that we're in day two of this thing, and there are still students 'unaccounted for'?" Making finger quotes.

Kate had a partial answer. "According to the school social worker, the boy named Jose is in foster care, and has a bad habit of running away from his placements. He's gone missing before, and always turned up within a day or two. The other boy, Gary, lives at home, but they haven't been able to reach any of his family by phone. The police even went to their apartment, but there was no one there, either."

Morgan's brow furrowed. "Could the whole family be involved? Or could they be in hiding? Could they have been taken, and the kid threatened, until he did what they wanted him to do?"

"Reid seemed to know Gary better than Jose. He said the boy had recently dropped out of some of his activities….his music lessons among them….to help his family with some financial stress." There was an ominous tone to Hotch's voice. "As far as Reid understood, he was helping out by working part time."

Rossi caught what his old friend had left unsaid. "But he could have found a more lucrative way of helping out."

The BAU unit chief nodded. "And far more dangerous."

* * *

Reid reclined in the upholstered chair and closed his eyes, trying to conjure a new image….a hopeful image…to replace the one his eyes had presented him just before he'd headed to the lab.

_Think positive thoughts. Visualize those cells marching forward, out of your body, and into hers. See them battling the virus. See them winning. See that fluid draining from her lungs. See her opening her eyes. See her looking at you. See her smiling. See her…_

He'd been almost there, almost about to see a gleeful Henry running in to jump into his mother's lap. But the machine next to him started to beep, and it all disappeared, just like that.

"Is there a problem?" he asked the tech.

"Hmm….let me see. Oh, here, just a kink. Try not to move your arm. It was a difficult stick on this right side, remember. So I don't want to lose this vein."

Neither did Reid. "Okay."

As if given permission by the interruption, the images Reid had been trying to block came rushing in. Kimura in whispered consultation with a pulmonologist. Both of them shooting worried looks back and forth between JJ and her monitors. Kimura's not-furtive-enough glances in Reid's direction.

He'd waited until the other physician left before approaching Kimura.

"She's worse, isn't she?"

Reflexively, she started to downplay the situation, reminding him of what she'd said earlier….that most patients got worse before they got better. But the look on his face told her he wasn't buying it. Kimura owed him honesty.

"She is. It's not unexpected, as I said before. But, just like her progression from exposure to developing symptoms, this is happening at a much more accelerated rate than has been reported before."

They'd talked about this, but not been able to explain it. Most of those exposed had shown no symptoms at all, leading them to believe there had been very little hantavirus in the powder. DHS had taken the rare step of agreeing…..philosophically, anyway….with Reid and the BAU. The powder was probably meant as a scare tactic, demonstrating what _might_ have happened, with a small amount of potential pathogen included to make some kind of point.

"Why, though? Why JJ?" It was his go-to means of avoiding the fact of the situation. That it _was_ JJ, and that she was, it seemed, dying. Neither his mind, nor his heart, were willing to absorb it. So he fell back to asking the 'why' questions.

This time, Kimura had a potential answer. "Dr. Ghee seems to think it was from the initial explosion. That either the impact of her hitting the concrete on her back, or the explosion itself, may have ruptured some alveoli, making them more susceptible to the inhaled virus. And, as you pointed out, she may have inadvertently given herself a more concentrated exposure as she removed her blouse."

Which _he'd_ advised her to do. Guilt threatened to come crushing in, until Reid heard JJ's voice in the back of his mind, saying the same thing she'd said to him after Maeve had been killed. He'd bemoaned his inability to deter Diane with his contrived declaration of love for her.

' _You can't be responsible for what that awful woman did, Spence. You said what you said and did what you did for love. That's all that mattered. It had nothing to do with whether you were convincing or not. She was always going to do it anyway. She just wanted to increase the harm by getting you to take some of the blame. Don't give her what she wanted._ '

She would tell him the same now. _'You were trying to save us. It was a good idea. Don't blame yourself if it didn't work.'_

He heard her voice. He heard her words. But he didn't really believe her. Not then, and not now. _So now I have to do anything I can to make it right, to make it up to you.  
_

Plasmapheresis was the first step. Kimura had given him the promising news a few hours ago.

"You were right, she's A positive. The blood bank has run both samples and says it's a go. And, in a stroke of good luck, it turns out there's a full plasmapheresis unit here on site."

"Which means?"

"Which means that we can filter your blood and give most of it back to you, instead of taking it outright. And that means that you'll be able to do it again in a day or two, if we need you to."

"Is that likely?"

Inadvertently, he'd hit upon a potential problem that Kimura had been chewing on.

"It may be. If you had this infection in your youth, it's very possible that your antibodies have waned over time. If that's the case, it may take several rounds of donation to give Agent Jareau enough of a boost."

Reid heard the undertone. "Or it may not work at all. Is that what you're thinking?"

Kimura gave him a steady look. "Why don't we concentrate on what we _do_ have to offer? That will include good thoughts."

* * *

It had taken over an hour to get the machine set up. Reid had been determined to sit with JJ, thinking those good thoughts, but his phone wouldn't let him. The first call had been from Will.

"Any change?" No preamble.

Reid explained the current situation and what they were planning to do about it.

"I'm here. I'm at the hospital. Can't you get that doctor friend of yours to let me up there? I need to see her, Spencer. I need her to know that I'm here."

The FBI agent could make no promises. "I'll ask, but I think DHS is running that part of the show. It may not be up to Dr. Kimura. But I'll also make sure JJ knows you've come. If it's any consolation, unless they find something else in the powder, I think they'll lift the quarantine order tomorrow. Hanta can't be spread person to person."

"Spencer….will this work? If you give her your blood….will she make it?" His voice just barely held together.

Reid took a page from Kimura's book. "I have every reason to think so."

Next was Kate, with a surprising question.

"Spencer, I'm here at the school with someone who knows you. And she says you might know a couple of the kids who are still missing. Will you speak with her?"

"Speak….with whom?"

"Stephanie Rowe." Kate waited for his reaction, trying to picture the look that must be on his face. _He must have known who she was when I was first describing the mentoring program, but he didn't say anything. Now that the cat is out of the bag, I wonder what he'll do._

He was so distracted by his worry over JJ that it took several beats for him to make sense of what Kate had said. When he did, he sounded flustered.

"Stephanie? She's there?"

"Yes. She heard through the school grapevine that we were investigating links between the bombing and students attending here. So she came, because she was worried about her _music_ students."

Hoping to remind him, with the emphasis on 'music', that the 'instrument case' finding still had not been made public.

"Okay, I'll speak with her." He heard a shuffling as Kate handed the phone to Stephanie.

"Spencer? Did you hear? Some of the boys you play chess with at the park may have been on the bus that blew up! It's just so awful!"

It occurred to Reid that the potential of a biological attack, and his own current plight, might also not be known to the public. Certainly, it didn't sound as though Stephanie realized that he was at a hospital while she was speaking to him. Best not to give any indication.

"Who's missing, Stephanie?"

"It's Jose...you know him, he's a tiny kid, thin, dark hair. Always wears a gray hoodie."

Reid's eidetic memory pictured the youngster exactly. He was one of the younger kids, fairly new to the chess group. In fact, Reid wasn't sure he'd ever actually seen the boy play.

"Okay, yes. But I don't know him all that well. Not really at all, actually."

"But you _do_ know Gary. He's missing too Spencer, I'm so sorry to tell you." Even in the short time she'd seen their interaction, she'd picked up on a special bond between the young teen and her new FBI friend.

Reid felt his stomach flip as, for once, his body reacted more quickly than his brain. His mind was having trouble wrapping around this new fact. _Gary! Killed? A killer?_

When he still hadn't responded after a full twenty seconds, Stephanie called out to him over the phone. "Spencer? Are you still there?"

It brought him to himself. Whatever had happened….had happened. He couldn't change it now. He could only react to it.

"I'm here. Gary. Hasn't anyone tried to reach his family?"Knowing, from many conversations over a chessboard, how close the traditional Asian clan had always been.

"They can't reach anyone. Not by phone, and Agent Calla….Kate…tells me the police went to his apartment, and no one was there."

"How about work? I think Mr. Wu owns a small restaurant over on Sixth. But I don't think I ever heard the name of it."

"Apparently they went there as well. It looks like it never opened last night."

It sounded ominous, and yet Reid had trouble making sense of it. It wasn't just Gary who'd disappeared. It was his whole family.

_What terrorist organization works that way? Could it be they're all being held hostage, to force Gary to act? Is it possible they were all on the bus?_

Reid thought he knew what Stephanie wanted to hear. And, since it was pretty much all he had to offer her, he complied.

"Don't worry. I'm sure there's a good explanation for it. But I'll make sure it doesn't get shoved aside. We'll find out what happened to Gary."

"Oh, thank you, Spencer! I was hoping you'd say that. I've really come to love these kids, and I couldn't stand it if anything happened to a single one of them."

* * *

The final call was one Reid initiated, filling Hotch in on JJ's condition, the plan to use his antibodies to help her, and the information about the 'chess kids', as he always thought of them.

"So, I'll be out of touch for an hour or so. I have to keep pretty still so they can take blood out of one arm, run it through the pheresis machine, and put it back in the other side."

"When will JJ get it?"

"Kimura says it will be a few hours of prep time. She's pushing them to prioritize it, so hopefully it will be a little faster than usual."

"And then?"

Reid understood what Hotch was asking. "And then, we wait. It could be hours, or it could be a day before we know. Kimura says I can donate again tomorrow, if JJ needs me to."

Hotch was an expert profiler, with years of experience. And despite their unwritten agreement not to profile one another, he knew they all did so, all the time. So he couldn't help but 'read' Reid. The younger man's voice was strong, but it was also strained. Aaron Hotchner realized he had _two_ agents in fragile condition, if for different reasons, and in different ways.

"Do what you need to do there. Please make sure she knows we're pulling for her. We're pulling for both of you."

* * *


	30. Chapter 30

_**A.N. Much of the medicine in this chapter is pure conjecture. Educated conjecture, mind you, but conjecture just the same.** _

* * *

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 30**

Reid watched as what they all hoped would be a life-saving infusion of plasma dripped into JJ's arm.

"When will we know?"

Kimura responded with a question. "If she'll react to the anti-A?"

Reid nodded.

"We'll draw blood two hours after the infusion. If it looks like she's hemolyzing significantly, we'll keep checking. But it's unlikely."

"But….if she reacts...if she hemolyzes…..will I still be able to give her more plasma tomorrow?"

Kimura laid what she intended as a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's true you weren't a perfect plasma match, Dr. Reid, but your anti-A antibodies are minimal. They're unlikely to cause a significant reaction. Don't worry about that part."

A grim smile spread across his face, his eyes still riveted on JJ. " _That_ part."

Kimura acknowledged the irony. There was still so much else to worry about.

"I'm going to go down and speak with Detective LaMontagne. Is there anything you'd like me to tell him?"

Reid cringed internally at the meeting he knew he would have with Will tomorrow, when the quarantine was expected to be lifted.

"No. Thanks, anyway. But I don't think there's anything he would want to hear from me."

* * *

The non-quarantined members of the team were meeting in advance of the arrival of Sid Hirsch from DHS. Garcia phoned in from her lair, anticipating a new set of tasks once she gave her report.

"Okay, so I was able to look at the school's records. As far as instruments go, they combine the kids in their official band with the kids in the music tutoring program. Five kids neither borrow nor rent, so they probably own their own instruments. Another twelve rent them. The rest are using school-owned instruments that aren't allowed to leave the campus."

"All right," said Morgan, thinking about how to narrow things down further. "Look at both the renters and the owners. Look for any evidence of dysfunction in the kids….anyone who might have been involved with the juvenile authorities, any school suspensions or truancy."

Rossi added, "Get a good look at the whole families, Garcia. Look at income, religious affiliations, political involvements. And cross reference everybody with the entire list of known or suspected recruits and recruiters."

None of them could see the technical analyst rolling her eyes. "All right. Be back to you in …..oh, say…a century or so."

Morgan laughed at her. "Come on, now, Baby Girl. We wouldn't have asked if we didn't think you were up to it."

Rossi was sardonic. "Or you could go back to fake-hacking our communications systems."

"Grrr…no thanks! It was too frustrating to see the door, right in front of me, opened wide….and not be able to go through."

Kate chimed in. "Was it that easy?"

"As pie, honey. But that's only because it was the Great Garcia. I doubt our amateur terrorist friends could even _find_ the door, let alone open it."

"Let's not underestimate the enemy, any of us," reminded their unit chief. "The bombing may have been an amateur effort, but it could just as easily have been a warning shot."

Morgan agreed. "That's what Reid thinks. A warning shot, or a distraction. No matter what, we need to take these idiots seriously…..even if we do think they're idiots." He had an additional task for his favorite technical analyst. "Sugar, see if any of them have ever been involved at the youth center. If they have, I'll talk to some of the kids over there to see if any of them were in tight with Zach Jackson."

"Speaking of your friend Zach," said Rossi, "Did our pals at DHS ever find out who owns that LLC that held the properties he had the kids cleaning up?"

That was Hotch's cue to fill them in on his latest conversation with their 'would be' allies in the investigation.

"Sid Hirsch said they'd only been able to trace the ownership of a few more of the properties in the other cities, but still hadn't gotten all the way to the top."

"I don't understand," said Kate. "How can it be so difficult to find out who owns a business? Aren't there tax records?"

Garcia still had her line open. "There are tax records, and there are tax records, if you know what I mean. Not everything is as straightforward as people think."

Kate just shook her head. "I must lead too simple a life. Well, if you can count hunting serial killers as part of a simple life. But, you know what I mean. I get my paycheck, I fill out my tax forms, I pay my taxes. I wouldn't have a clue how to bury that kind of information. A body, maybe. But not information."

Hotch had to work at not smiling. "Hirsch also said that the detail they assigned to Zachary Jackson followed him for the past three days. On day one, he left his home and drove directly to the youth center, apparently for one of his split shifts. He made a run to the grocery store after his first shift, then went back home. At five, he went back to the youth center."

"Doesn't sound too impressive," observed Rossi.

His old friend nodded. "It doesn't. Until you note that, to make his way to the evening shift, instead of driving….he took the bus."

* * *

Linda Kimura approached the isolation ward wearily. She'd spent an hour talking down the petrified husband of her sickest patient, all the while unsure if she was right to be offering him assurances.

_She's young. She's healthy. She's in excellent physical condition. But she's also dying from something for which there is no specific treatment. Should I have discouraged him from hoping?_

But she knew, from long experience, how much people relied on hope. How it kept them going, how it made the difficult travails just a little bit easier, just a little bit more worthwhile.

_Even if there comes a time when we have to concede…..why make that time come sooner? Why not hold on to the possibility?_

She'd already checked in with the nurses on the floor. There _had_ been a change in Jennifer Jareau's condition, but not for the better. Her ventilator settings had been raised because her own respiratory effort was diminishing. Kimura could only pray that Spencer Reid's antibodies would start showing themselves before Jennifer's decline was complete.

She moved along the hall silently, as was her pattern, stopping at the doorway to JJ's room. She leaned against the doorjamb, watching from behind him as Reid sat next to JJ's bed. Kimura smiled to herself when she noticed that he was holding only three of JJ's fingers, careful not to displace one of three IVs that were running into her. She could tell that he was whispering something to her, but couldn't quite hear what he was saying.

After a few moments, Reid seemed to become aware of Kimura's presence. He bent forward, and kissed the fingers he'd been holding, before walking over to the physician.

Kimura smiled at him. "She looked pretty peaceful when you were talking to her."

Reid blushed, seemingly embarrassed. "I was reading to her."

"Reading? I didn't notice a book."

Reid shrugged. "I don't need a book to read to someone. They're all in my head."

Kimura was familiar with Reid's genius, but his eidetic memory had never come up. "In your head?"

He explained, ending with, "I was reading her one of the Sherlock Holmes stories. I was hoping she'd be too curious about how it came out…..that, maybe, it would make her hang on."

She heard the break in his voice, and knew that he knew. "I'm sorry. We're doing all that we can."

He looked at the floor, nodding. "I know. I know you are. But…."

She headed him off, thinking she knew what he was going to say. "We'll know by tomorrow morning if she's responding to the plasma."

Reid almost spoke over her in his eagerness to make his point. "But…I've been thinking. I think…there might be a way to get her more antibodies."

Kimura didn't follow him. "How?"

Reid was careful with his wording, knowing that what he was about to say might not go over well.

"I was thinking…..remember, you said my antibodies might have waned, because it's been so long since I had the infection. What if….what if I was exposed again? Wouldn't my body react to it? Wouldn't it raise my antibody level?"

Kimura's brow furrowed in concern. "Are you suggesting that we infect you with the virus? Dr. Reid, there's no safe way to do that. We've never been able to isolate the antigen that would induce an antibody response. You would have to inhale the actual virus."

To Kimura's horror, Reid seemed enthused. "Exactly! And then my immune system will increase the production of hanta-specific antibodies. Then we can siphon them off with apheresis and give them to JJ!"

"But….we've never studied re-infection with hantavirus. There's no guarantee it wouldn't make you as ill as it's making Agent Jareau. It's a good theory, granted, but…."

Reid's frustration was evident in his posture, and the vehemence of his words. "Dr. Kimura…..Linda….. she's the best friend I have in the world. _My_ world won't be the same without her. And she's got a husband and a son. I have to do this!"

The emotion in his words was so strong that it forced her to back away from him. Kimura walked off a few steps, lost in thought.

_Could it work? Yes. But it's so dangerous! And yet…._

She looked through the side window at JJ, and then back to Reid. His eyes held his plea.

She was shaking her head in resistance even as she conceded. "All right. We'll try it. But I want you to do something for me first."

* * *

"You _what_?"

Hotch's reaction wasn't unexpected.

"The risks are minimal. Theoretically."

"Theoretically. Reid, do you really know what you're doing?"

At Reid's request, Hotch was off speaker, and had moved to the hallway to take his call. Those facts alone would have alerted the rest of the team that something was up with their youngest. But the sight, through the slats of the window blinds, of Hotch rubbing his furrowed brow, raised their 'alert' to the level of 'alarm'.

Morgan remarked, "That doesn't look good."

As new as she was to the team, Kate had already grown fond of her colleagues. "Do you think JJ's all right? Is he telling Hotch something about JJ?"

Rossi tried to keep them calm. "We'll find out soon enough. There's no sense bringing trouble where trouble isn't."

In the hallway, Hotch stared out the window without seeing. "What did Dr. Kimura say?"

"She's on board with it." Judiciously not mentioning Kimura's initial reluctance. "Hotch, it's the only thing we've got left. She's getting worse, and there's not much more they can do for her. And over a third of patients with this _die,_ Hotch. I can't stand by and let it happen to JJ."

Kimura had insisted he consult with his superior before proceeding. Even though Aaron Hotchner had no legal right to keep Reid from doing what he wanted to do, she knew the young genius greatly respected his unit chief, and would listen to what he had to say. So she'd made it a condition of agreeing to his most unusual request.

Hotch held the phone away for a moment and searched both his brain and his oft times too-hidden heart. He tried to run logical scenarios through his mind, much as he imagined Reid must have done. And then he had to acknowledge the shouting coming from his heart.

It came out with a sigh. "All right. Yes. Do it. But, Reid…."

"Yes?"

"Don't let them start the process until I get there."

Reid was caught off guard by that. "You're coming? But Hotch, I don't think…." He was about to mention the quarantine.

His superior cut him off. "They'll let me in."

Despite his admonishments to the others, Hotch had been barely able to concentrate on the case knowing JJ was in such a precarious situation. Reid's presence at the hospital was the only saving grace to that dilemma. But now, Reid might be putting himself into mortal peril as well. Two of his agents might soon be fighting for their lives. Two of his agents…..and friends. There really was no choice for Aaron Hotchner.

He reentered the round table room, drawing everyone's attention. Briefly, he explained the situation, and Reid's plan.

"No!" thundered Morgan. "Hotch, didn't you try to talk him out of it? I know he wants to help JJ, but he's not going to do that by killing himself!"

Hotch spoke quietly, hoping to achieve a sense of calm that he didn't feel.

"He said Kimura's on board, and that they both think his antibodies will protect him." Even as he repeated Reid's words, Hotch doubted the veracity of them.

That silenced Morgan, even if it didn't quite satisfy him. Hotch turned his eyes to Rossi.

The depth of their friendship was evident in the lack of need for words. "Dave…"

"Go. We've got this."

* * *

Reid heard a commotion in the hallway and then saw an image reflected in the window of JJ's room. He turned to see his unit chief standing just outside.

A rare look of shock adorned the face of Aaron Hotchner. Despite Reid's huge vocabulary, it seemed the genius hadn't been quite able to find the words to convey exactly how ill JJ was. Now Hotch was seeing for himself.

Reid stood and moved to join his boss in the doorway. "I thought you said they would let you in. That was a pretty argumentative entrance."

"I'm here, aren't I?"

Reid's wry smile acknowledged it. Throwing a look over his shoulder at JJ, he remarked, "She's going to kill us both when she wakes up. You, for taking a chance on coming here, when you have Jack. And me…." Hoping against hope that there _would_ be a time when she would wake up,and admonish him.

"And you for doing something that maybe Dr. Kimura _didn't_ give her resounding approval?"

Reid felt the heat rising on his neck. "I take it you ran into her?"

"And Will LaMontagne, in the lobby. For the record, he's all for the plan."

Reid wasn't sure quite how to take that, so he let it lie. He followed Hotch as the older man moved over to JJ's bedside.

"She hasn't been awake for most of the day. And her respiratory effort is almost nonexistent. Kimura hasn't said it to me, but I think she's worried she won't last the night."

Hotch hadn't quite realized how imminent the danger was. _No wonder he's so anxious to take the chance._

"Are they ready to infect you?" The words sounded ridiculous.

Reid shook his head. "Kimura had to get approval from the hospital ethics committee, and the CDC had to agree as well. She hopes it will be soon, but she hasn't heard yet."

Aaron Hotchner sat in the chair that had hosted Reid's vigil all afternoon. Afraid of displacing any of the equipment, he limited his contact to a hand placed on her forearm. His memory replayed scene after scene of the moments they'd shared together, the smoothness of their teamwork, the rare, but often deep, personal exchanges. He offered a muted prayer of petition for her life.

Then the two men sat in silence with their ailing friend and colleague, each lost in their own thoughts.

It was another hour before Dr. Kimura appeared again. The look on her face was inscrutable.

"Dr. Reid….we have permission. And we have the inoculum. If you would come with me….."

Hotch pushed away from the bed, prepared to follow them. Then watched as Reid bent over JJ. This time, the young man's words were audible.

"We're going to win this one, Jennifer Jareau. You and me. We're going to beat this. Because love is stronger than anything life, or death…..or hantavirus….has to throw at us. I'll see you in a little bit." He started to turn away, but then bent to her again. "Don't go anywhere without me."

The words might have sounded comforting. But, to Aaron Hotchner and Linda Kimura, they sounded ominous.

* * *

Considering the potential consequences, thought Hotch, it was hardly a momentous occasion.

_There should have been some fanfare. Something._

But all there was, was an inhaler, and a spacer. Kimura pressed the canister, releasing its contents into the plastic hollow of the spacer. Reid put his mouth on the mouthpiece and inhaled, six successive breaths.

And then, perversely, they all prayed that he'd just been infected with a lethal virus.


	31. Chapter 31

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 31**

"I don't understand," said Aaron Hotchner. "You said you feel fine. Isn't that a good thing?"

Reid turned disappointed eyes to Dr. Kimura, asking her to explain. She nodded her assent.

"It is a good thing that it hasn't made him as ill as it's made Agent Jareau. We're happy that it hasn't affected his lungs. But the fact that Dr. Reid doesn't have any symptoms at all probably means that the attempt to infect him didn't work."

"How can you be sure?" asked Hotch.

Reid decided to answer. "We can't be one hundred percent sure. But…..think about it this way. You know how, after people get the flu shot, they complain that it gave them the flu?"

Hotch nodded. He'd complained himself.

"Well, they're wrong. One hundred percent of the time. It's impossible to catch the flu from the shot, because it's a killed virus. The symptoms people feel are because their body is reacting to the shot. They've activated their immune systems, and the immune response is what makes them think they're sick."

Kimura chimed in. "It's actually a good thing to feel a little bit ill after a vaccine….basically, it means the vaccine is working."

Reid took it back. "So, the fact that I feel perfectly fine probably means that the inhalation didn't work. It was essentially supposed to function as a booster shot. But…."

"But it didn't." Hotch understood now, both about the symptoms, and about Reid's disappointment. JJ's condition was still concerning. Since he'd arrived at the hospital, she hadn't worsened, but she'd not improved, either.

Kimura tried to be encouraging. "It's possible that the process will just take longer for you, Dr. Reid. Remember, the usual incubation period is a few days. We think Agent Jareau became ill so quickly because of the microdamage inside her lungs from the explosion. For you, maybe there was less lung damage. But the fact that you directly inhaled the virus should shorten your incubation period from the usual."

The mention of lung damage resurrected a ping that had been sounding in Hotch's brain for a while.

"What about Reid's infection with anthrax? Didn't that damage his lungs?" _Doesn't that make this that much more dangerous?_

Kimura had already discussed this, in depth, with her patient. She looked to Reid for permission to share the information with Hotch, and received a subtle nod in response.

"Dr. Reid's pulmonary function improved significantly over the year following his anthrax infection. It's still not quite normal, and it may never be, but it shouldn't put him at much increased risk." _Much._

Kimura's attention was drawn to her phone when it sounded a text. She read it and looked to the two men. "There's no evidence of poison in the powder, and the CDC hasn't found evidence of any other pathogens besides the hantavirus. Even if some of those exposed are still incubating it, they pose no danger to anyone else. The quarantine is lifted."

Despite the situation with their colleague, the two men were relieved at the news. Reid remarked, "That will make a lot of people over at the St. Elizabeth site very happy."

Kimura agreed. "And their very anxious families."

Which reminded all of them about the very anxious family member still staked out in the hospital lobby.

"I'll get him," said Kimura.

* * *

Reid took advantage of the ensuing few minutes to visit with JJ once again. He tried to convince himself that her color was just a little bit better, and that she looked just a little less depleted. But, in truth, he didn't think she looked any different from a few hours ago.

_At least you're not worse. I can be thankful for that. Can't I?_

He sat lightly on the edge of the bed and straddled her with his arms. Using them for balance, he leaned over so that his mouth was right next to her ear.

"They've lifted the quarantine. No one else is sick."

Knowing that, if she _could_ hear him, the news would please her.

"Will is coming up. I know you probably need to hear his voice, and I know he needs to see you. He's been camped out in the lobby since yesterday. So, I'm going to need to let him sit with you now. But don't you think, for even a second, that I've left you. I'll be right outside. I'm not going anywhere until we can all leave together. All right? Just remember that. I'm not going anywhere, and Will will be here too. And Hotch. And, now that we're not under quarantine, I'll bet the rest of the team will show up as well. You'll have a full fan club rooting for you. All you need to do is hang in there just a little bit longer. Okay?"

Reid's peripheral vision caught motion in the hallway. Will was following Kimura to the door of JJ's room. Reid's time with her was almost up.

The young genius bent over once again. "I remember how it felt. I know you're probably exhausted, and scared. But just remember that we're here. We love you."

He started to pull away, but thought better of it. _I'd want to know, if things were the other way around._ So he told her.

"I love you. And I need you. I can't do this job without you. I don't think I know how to do _any_ of my life without you. So you'd better stick around. Okay?"

He took a chance and gave her a quick kiss at her temple, rising from the bed just in time for Will LaMontagne to enter.

"Will…"

"Spencer, how is she? Is she awake? Is she breathing again?"

Reid recognized it as nervous chatter. He was sure Kimura would have already given Will a full rundown on JJ's condition.

"She's not really awake. But I think she'll be able to hear you."

Will looked as shocked as Hotch had at first seeing JJ. He hung back a little, seemingly afraid to touch her. She looked that fragile.

Reid encouraged him. "She's strong,Will. She's holding her own. She's been stable for the past few hours."

Kimura encouraged him as well. "Go ahead, Detective. I'm sure she'll know you're with her."

Will sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and put his hand over the free fingers of JJ's.

"It's me, Cher. They finally let me in. You've been fightin' this thing for two days now, and you're doin' great. Just hang in there, all right, Cher? Just keep on fightin' so you can come home to Henry and me."

He was having trouble keeping his voice together, moving Kimura to put a hand on his shoulder. The touch drew his attention.

"Are you sure you're doin' everything you can? Isn't there somethin' else you can try?"

Kimura opened her mouth to answer him, but closed it again. She was distracted by the movements Reid was making. He seemed to be trying to stretch out the muscles of his back and shoulders, as though they'd suddenly begun to ache.

 _Here we go_ , she thought, not really entirely sure of their destination.

* * *

Four hours later, Hotch was still at the hospital, still concerned about the future of his two youngest agents. He was on the phone with Rossi, whose first questions had been about Reid and JJ.

"Will is with her now, and I'm told her mother is on the way. According to Kimura, she's stabilized since yesterday, so they think the original infusion of Reid's antibodies may have helped."

"But she's not improving?"

Rossi heard the sigh from Hotch before he heard the words. "No. Not yet."

The founder of the BAU was well-experienced in dealing with stressful situations. Always accentuate the positive. "Well, maybe she's just on the cusp. You have to stop getting worse before you get better, right?"

Hotch appreciated the effort of his old friend. "Right."

"And how is our hardheaded genius?" They'd all realized there would be no talking Reid out of his plan.

"He's….sick. Which, I'm told, is a good thing. He's got muscle aches and a low grade fever, and he's thrilled about it. You know Reid. He's happy to be proven right."

"But Kimura's not worried?"

"Apparently not. Not yet, anyway. She said she'll worry if he develops difficulty breathing, because that might mean an actual infection. She thinks….and _he's_ absolutely certain, of course…..that this is just the immune response they were hoping for. They're getting ready to hook him up to the plasmapheresis equipment now."

"And then?"

"And then they'll infuse the plasma into JJ and hope for the best."

"If nobody minds I think I'll add a little prayer to my hope."

"I think you'll have a lot of company."

They moved on, then, to a recap of the meeting with DHS.

"Hirsch is fully in our camp, demonstrating the fact that to know us is to love us. He's convinced Reid is right about the explosion and the drone being more of a statement than an actual attack. It wasn't meant to do anything other than let us know they _could_ attack, even at the headquarters of the agency charged with stopping them."

Hotch nodded his agreement, even though Rossi couldn't see. "I hear a 'but' coming."

"Your hearing is precise. ' _But_ ', he's still getting some resistance from further up. He thinks, and I agree with him, that they're underestimating what these guys can do. They're looking at the bomb and the drone…which, it turns out can be bought for under two hundred dollars at pretty much any place that sells electronic gadgetry… and they're thinking it's an amateur operation. Which means that while they've heightened security around federal buildings and they're watching the communications centers closely, they're really only looking for the obvious. Not something with any sophistication."

Hotch remembered Garcia using the word 'amateur' earlier as well. "Better make sure Garcia is on board with that."

"I've already been over it with Madame Penelope. She's aware. Turns out she's not kidding about her technological ego. She thinks that anyone besides herself is an amateur."

"Hmph. All right, so….did Hirsch have any thoughts about how we're going to move DHS in the right direction?"

"He did. He thinks it's someone in his administrative pipeline who's in the way. That not all his information is getting to the top. So he asked me to have Cruz try to bring it up through the FBI hierarchy, to a parallel level, and try to get in that way. Matt's working on it now."

Hotch was shaking his head in frustrated anger. "Didn't we learn enough from 9/11? It was a lack of communication within our own agencies that kept us from preventing it."

"That, and a failure to believe that anyone would ever so callously kill so many people. Some of the information was looked at and disregarded."

"Well, we know better now, and we need to pay attention to what's right in front of us. Sounds like we're operating on our own for the time being."

Rossi agreed. "Hirsch can continue to give us some low level support, but that's it for now. I think we should focus on the local operation, trace it as best we can. It sounds like this real estate holding company connected to Morgan's youth center is operating in New York and LA as well, so if we can break something here, it may have fallout for the investigations there."

"Good thinking. What were the initials…DCA?"

"DTA. Morgan asked Garcia to match each of the letters with the last names of everyone on the lists, cross-referencing to all the known recruiters, and recruits, as well as the older potential recruits. Did you know," he quipped, "that our technical analyst can actually blow smoke from her ears?"

Hotch smiled, both at the image of Garcia's implosion, and at the way his long time friend managed to defuse so many situations with humor.

"All right. Have her send any possibles to our tablets. I need to keep Reid's brain occupied."

* * *

Hotch was right.

He may have not been feeling his best, but there was nothing wrong with Reid's mind, except for the fact that he couldn't get JJ out of it. Couldn't stop running scenarios, and possibilities, and odds ratios, both promising and dire. When he'd been able to sit with her, he'd kept his mind focused by reading to her. Now Will was at her bedside, and Reid could only be with her in his thoughts. Which refused to be quieted or controlled.

"Can you focus?" It was true that Hotch was worried about where Reid's thoughts would take him. But he was also worried about the imminent terrorist threat, and he needed his resident genius working on it.

"Just give me something to focus _on_. I'm not good at waiting."

Nor was his unit chief. Hotch was torn between his need to support his own agents in the face of a known threat, and his sense of responsibility to protect the rest of the citizenry from a threat that was merely potential, but very likely. He needed something to turn, whether it was JJ beginning to improve, or a break in the larger case. _Something_.

For now, he could only join Reid in trying to decipher the information Garcia had begun sending them. Each time he refreshed the page, the list was longer, as she cross-referenced the three initials against the list of people already under suspicion.

Hotch looked up for a moment, and watched as Reid's fingers and eyes flew down each screen, his lips moving ever so slightly. Apparently the genius had managed to immerse himself in the task.

They'd both been at it for almost thirty minutes, when they sensed motion in the hallway. Each looked up, expecting it to be Kimura telling them they were ready for Reid in the lab. But they were wrong. The hair that topped the head in the doorway wasn't black, it was blonde. It wasn't Kimura. It was Sandy Jareau.

JJ's mother had been a fan of Spencer Reid from the first day she'd met him, at Henry's christening. She'd pegged the shy, skinny young man immediately. No matter that he was an FBI agent. He needed mothering, and fattening, and she was more than willing to provide both. When, later, JJ told her mother about Reid's family history, she'd become even more determined. They'd only seen each other at Henry-related occasions since then, but Sandy had managed to pass along some motherly encouragement …and many packages of leftovers ….each time.

Today, her eyes shone with tears of fear, and hope, and gratitude.

"Spencer…oh, Spencer! Dr. Kimura told me what you've done for my Jennifer. Please, God, that it works. But, what a chance for you to take! I don't have the words…..no words…."

Reid blushed, embarrassed at the praise and uncomfortable with the emotion.

"You don't have to thank me. It hasn't worked yet. But I'm hopeful that it will. But, Mrs. Jareau….." At a look from her, he corrected himself. "…Sandy… JJ is my friend. I couldn't do any less. No one could have."

Sandy went into mothering mode. "Yes, you could have. And most people would have. So don't you sell yourself short. Your mother would be very proud of you." Sure, on some level, that Diana Reid would want her son to know this, and acting in motherly solidarity with her. "When this is over, I'm cooking you the feast of your life."

Both men appreciated the optimism of her 'when' rather than 'if'. And then they both were sure they knew where JJ got her strength and courage, when she added, "And, Spencer….if this doesn't work…..if.. " She had to choke back a sob. "….if Jennifer doesn't respond….if she…well, it doesn't diminish what you did. I will still be grateful that you tried."

The graciousness of the remark rendered both men speechless. Reid could only nod his appreciation to her. They were still in that silence when there was movement at the door again. This time it _was_ Kimura.

"They're ready."

Before Reid could leave the room, Sandy Jareau took him into her arms and squeezed. "Thank you, Spencer. Any mother would be proud to have you for a son."

* * *

A few hours after the harvesting of Reid's plasma, Kimura told them the infusion had begun.

"If your antibodies are more plentiful, we're hopeful that she'll respond more quickly this time."

"Is her family still with her?" _Should I still stay away?_

"Her mother left to pick up the little boy."

Reid was surprised. "They're bringing Henry here?" He didn't think JJ would want her son to see her so ill.

"I gathered that he'd been at a friend's house since he got back from his camping weekend yesterday, and they were worried that he'd be afraid if he didn't see anyone from his family."

Hotch nodded in understanding. The support and presence of his sister-in-law, Jessica, had played a large part in Jack's coping with the loss of his mother.

Reid was still concerned. "I just hope he doesn't come here. Not until she's better. It would scare him, I know it."

Hotch assured him. "Mrs. Jareau doesn't strike me as someone who'd take that kind of chance. I'm sure she'll wait until it's the right time."

Hoping the 'right time' would come.

"Maybe Garcia can watch him so Sandy can be here. Do you think…."

Hotch agreed with the sentiment, but had to be practical. " _We_ need Garcia right now, Reid."

The younger man conceded. "Well….what about….. what about Meg? What about Kate's niece? They got along great, and she's old enough to babysit."

Hotch shrugged. Why not?

Reid called Kate, and explained the situation.

"Of course she can! It will give her something to do besides worry. All of the area schools are closed until further notice, because of the attack, so she's home with time on her hands. I'll call her."

Reid contacted Sandy Jareau, Garcia conferenced all the necessary phones, and it was arranged that Henry would spend the rest of the day with the 'older woman' who'd fascinated him the night she'd come to dinner.

Sandy called again on her way back to the hospital.

"Thank you again, Spencer. As much as I love my grandson, I need to be with my daughter right now. So thank you for helping to arrange this."

"How is Henry?"

"He doesn't know anything. I just told him that both his mom and dad were busy with work, and I had to go to the dentist. That was enough for him. My little sweetheart doesn't like going to the dentist."

Reid smiled in sympathy. He wasn't a big fan either.

"So, he doesn't know?"

"He doesn't. And I'm hoping he'll never have to."

"Me too."

* * *

It was remarkable, thought Hotch, that he could have known Spencer Reid for as long as he had, and still be astounded at what the young man's brain could do. Seemingly faster than Garcia's computers, Reid was scanning names from each of the 'initial' lists, attempting to match a 'D' to a 'T' or an 'A', by referencing his own personal store of information about how each of the owners of those initials got on the list. Far more rapidly than Garcia could come up with a program for it, his brain ran through the seemingly infinite number of permutations among the names, and whether they were being watched as recruiters, or recruits, or potentials, and whether they'd gotten on the list through their religious, or educational, or politicial or other leanings. Whether there was any connection among them that might have led to the partnership.

_And all of this with a fever and body aches. But thank God he's not had trouble with his lungs._

The main problem was that Reid had, so far, rejected all but two possible connections, both of which he deemed tenuous at best. It seemed they'd spent hours on what was turning out to be a fruitless endeavor.

Hotch thought that Reid had given up when he saw the young man close his tablet and pull out the pad and pencil he'd cajoled from one of the nurses.

"Found something?" Thinking Reid meant to take notes on some of the names.

"No. I just need to doodle. I get too circular. Doodling helps me break the cycle."

Hotch nodded in understanding and went back to his own perusal of the names. After a few more minutes, he looked over at Reid's pad. It seemed that 'genius-doodling' was different from that of the rest of the population. Reid's 'mindless activity' seemed to be comprised of a full sheet of numbers formed into complex-looking equations.

"Doodling?" He teased.

Reid looked up at him, puzzled, and then down at the pad, realizing what it must look like. "It relaxes me. It helps me stretch my brain in a different direction."

"Is it working?"

Reid shrugged. "Maybe. I think...I think we might be looking at this the wrong way. I don't think DTA is a set of initials. I think it represents a motto."

"A motto?"

"Yes. I think it stands for Death To America."

* * *

Reid's conclusion wasn't exactly a breakthrough. They were no closer to finding out who might be involved with the terror plot. But the idea of the plot leaders having such a motto _did_ resonate with one group of people.

The information was passed along to Mateo Cruz, who moved it up the ladder within the FBI and then laterally into DHS. The idea of the real estate holding company operating in an unusual fashion, combined with its locations in the target areas, and now with the possibility that its name reflected such a threatening sentiment, all seemed to convince DHS that the FBI, and the BAU in particular, might just be on to something. For the first time, DHS gave real credence to the leads the FBI had been following.

Suddenly Reid's prior conclusion about the intercepted communications indicating an imminent attack was deemed realistic, as was his conclusion that the current threat was likely headed by a native born American. Suddenly the DHS was very interested in anything more the BAU, and its resident genius in particular, might have to offer.

Reid and Hotch were just about to conference in with the rest of the team when Reid raised a hand to stop his unit chief from completing the call.

He'd been here so long that he'd become familiar with the sound of the gait of many of the nurses. As silent as she usually was, he'd even become familiar with Kimura's footfalls. So he started reacting to the rapidity of her approach even before she reached his doorway. His heart began to pound. Something had happened.

"Dr. Reid!"

The two male profilers exchanged a worried look and turned to Kimura. And then felt the tension drain from their bodies as they watched her break into a smile.

"She's responding! Her oxygen requirement has gone down, and she's begun to take some breaths on her own again. It's working!"

It was uncharacteristic of the usually reserved Linda Kimura, but she couldn't help it. They'd taken a chance, she and Spencer Reid. And it had paid off. She went to the bed and hugged him.

"You were right! Thank God, you were right!"

As the others embraced, Aaron Hotchner moved to the window, looking out at the city streets. He didn't think it seemly for anyone to see the wetness of his eyes.

He needn't have worried. Neither Reid nor Kimura could have seen his eyes anyway. Their vision was too blurred by the liquid overflowing from their own.


	32. Chapter 32

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 32**

"You all right?"

The conference call Hotch and Reid had been awaiting before Kimura delivered her news had been delayed for a bit, but was due to start soon. But the young genius didn't look at all prepared for it. He'd been staring out the window ever since Kimura had left them to go back to her patient.

When he didn't answer, Hotch asked again. "Reid, are you all right?"

The unruly-haired head nodded. "I just…..it _worked_. Hotch, it _worked_."

Regret and gratitude competed for Aaron Hotchner's attention just then. He'd known Reid had suffered a crisis in confidence for a good part of the past two years, ever since his failed attempt to save Maeve Donovan. The unit chief had even tried to address it with him, on more than one occasion. But Reid had managed to put him off, with rebuffs that were just the slightest bit shy of insubordination. Instead of entering a confrontation with the wounded young man, Hotch had chosen to let it ride, to hope that time would heal what he could not.

But the words spoken by Reid just now told the unit chief two things: that the wound was still open, and that his opportunity was at hand. Maybe now, with a different kind of outcome looming, Reid would be ready.

"Yes, it worked. You made an educated choice, you took a chance on it, and it worked. You sound surprised."

Reid still hadn't turned around. "I am, I guess. I mean, it made sense that it would, so I guess I _shouldn't_ be surprised, but….it's just…" He could only shake his head.

Hotch moved around to lean against the window, standing opposite Reid and drawing the younger man's attention.

"It's just that it didn't work for you before…..when you most needed it to."

Even all this time later, Reid couldn't maintain eye contact. Nor could he speak about it.

So Hotch did, for him. "You took your best shot at helping Maeve, and it didn't work out. But that wasn't about _you_ , Reid. It was just what happened."

Just like he himself had done his best to protect Haley and Jack. But that hadn't worked out either.

 _Maybe,_ thought Hotch, _the reason I couldn't bring myself to confront him about it wasn't so much about letting him heal. Maybe it was still too close for me. After all this time._

Reid's words came in a near-whisper. "If it wasn't me…..if it wasn't my fault….then _why_? Why did she have to die?"

Hotch pulled himself out of his own rumination to address his troubled agent. That they should be having this conversation now, when they should have been elated over JJ, was telling.

"Reid…..there is no 'why'. Believe me, I've asked that question a thousand times myself. And all I've learned is that there is no 'why'. It's just what happened," he repeated.

Spencer Reid was always the most well-read, most knowledgeable person in any room he inhabited. He was the one who had all the answers, even when those around him had no interest in hearing them. But he'd searched, and poked, and probed on this very issue for the better part of two years now. And he hadn't yet found what he was looking for. So he turned to a man whom he greatly respected, whose opinion he valued. The man who'd stepped in as a mentor when Gideon had abandoned the team…and himself. And he asked him the question that had been troubling him since that night in the loft.

"But…if things just 'happen'…..why are we here? Why do we do _any_ of what we do? Why even _try_? That's just the thing, Hotch. I don't understand why I'm here." It all came pouring out in a rush of words.

"In the BAU?"

The younger man shook his head. "Not just the BAU. Not just work. I just…. if it doesn't count for anything, if I can't save someone I care about…..what is the point? What purpose do I serve? I don't know why I'm _here_."

The need to use himself for something, the need to use his talents and gifts. The very thing he'd talked about with JJ, before she'd nearly died.

Tumblers began to fall into place inside Hotch's brain. The chances Reid had taken…. going against protocol in how he'd attempted, and failed, to talk down an unsub….just recently the attempt to sacrifice himself when he and JJ were caught in that convenience store holdup… even the case-finding he'd been doing on his own by reading small town newspapers... Hotch had attributed his young agent's changed behavior entirely to the depression that was so obvious in his features, and how he carried himself, even in the absence of his ramblings. But, just now, he was gaining a better understanding.

_It's not just depression. He's trying to make himself count. He's trying to have a purpose._

It was, essentially, the existential crisis, genius-sized. Fortunately for Reid's highly-intelligent-yet-not-quite-genius unit chief, understanding led to a rudimentary insight.

"And now?"

Reid looked at him, not quite understanding. "Now?"

"Reid, you put your life on the line…. _again_ …. for JJ, by insisting on being infected with the same illness that threatened her life. But, this time, it looks like it's working. Kimura thinks she'll make it. JJ will live, and go home to her family, and have the rest of her life...all because of what you gave her. Which, was, literally, your life's substance. Do you need more purpose than that?"

A visible string of conflicting emotions ran over Reid's features before he responded.

"I….no. I don't. It's just…. I'm grateful…. _so_ grateful that it worked for JJ. To lose her…. what would have happened to Henry? Or her mother, or Will? Or the team?"

 _Or me_.

He went on. "No, you're right. I shouldn't ask for anything more. It's just that I don't understand why it couldn't work before, for Maeve. Why couldn't my life be enough then?" The life he'd tried to trade for that of the woman he loved.

The weight of the conversation had Hotch looking for a chair. Pulling one over, he sat heavily and sighed, rubbing his brow as he acknowledged Reid's question.

"It's on my list."

The genius was confused again. His unit chief had a habit of doing that to him.

"Your list?"

"The question of 'why'….about so many things….it's on my list. The one I intend to go over with Someone-In-Charge should I make it through the pearly gates." He looked directly at the young man across from him. "We can't know the answers to those questions, Reid. You know better than I do that the great philosophers have been asking the same questions for centuries."

Reid's slow nod acknowledged it. His degree in philosophy had done very little to help him work through any of these issues. "So all we can do is accept that there are no answers. Is that what you're saying?"

"That. And carry on. Live."

Momentarily shedding his role as Reid's superior, Hotch sat across from Reid as his mentor, and friend. He'd neglected this part of their relationship in recent years, especially since the loss of Haley had thrown him into his own crisis. But it _had_ occurred to him, from time to time, that his young genius had no such mature figure in his life. No father, no uncle, not even a trusted pastor or advisor. Nearly all of what Reid learned, he learned from books, which could teach one only so much about how a life is lived. Now, as he reached out to him in a different way, the younger man's dilemma was, ironically, serving to help complete Hotch's transition back from his own.

Recognizing the importance of the conversation, Hotch subtly shut off his phone. The conference call could wait a few more minutes. This had already waited for far too long.

"Reid, it sounds like you're looking at life as though it's a puzzle to be solved. But it isn't. It's a set of experiences that humans have, alone and together, that make us feel….well….." He struggled to find the right words, then realized he was sitting across from a living dictionary, and decided it would be better to help Reid find them himself. He started again.

"Tell me. Why did you offer yourself for Maeve?"

The young man was incredulous. _You have to ask?_ But he answered.

"Why? Because I love her. _Loved_ her." Each time he made that correction, it hurt. Maybe a little bit less over time, but it always hurt.

"But, what did you hope to gain from it?"

"What did….. I wanted her to live! She didn't deserve to die. She deserved a life."

"And you didn't? Sacrificing yourself wasn't going to allow either of you to have a life _together_. If you'd given your life for hers, if she'd lived, she would have been alone."

Reid was beginning to get agitated. Was Hotch deliberately trying to bait him?

"I don't understand why you're saying this. Are you saying I should have let her die?"

The older man used both hands to wave down Reid's anger. "I'm saying that there was a reason you were willing to give your own life, even though doing so wasn't going to bring you the relationship you wanted. What was it?"

There was such intensity in how Hotch was looking at him, in the tone of his voice, that Reid felt like his answer to this question was the most crucial one he would ever provide. But he didn't know what that answer _was_. When he started to shake his head, Hotch pushed him.

" _Think_ , Reid. What did you have to gain by giving your life for Maeve's?" Knowing, instinctively, that he would have to pressure the young man to get him out of his head and into his heart.

Reid was so frustrated and flustered by this conversation that he began to feel like he might erupt. And then he did.

"I don't know! Maybe nothing! Or maybe just…. maybe that she would know how much I loved her. That she would know she was _that_ valuable to someone! That I'd gotten to know who she was inside and that it was the most precious thing in my life!" He fell back, spent.

Hotch nodded, ever so slightly. He'd been on this same internal journey himself, a few years ago. Saving Haley wouldn't have brought her back into his daily life, he'd known that. But he would have given himself to save her, just the same. He was gratified to hear Reid's words. Now he just had to help his young genius understand them.

"You wanted her to know that her life had made a difference." They were back, full circle.

"It _did_ make a difference. It made _my_ life completely different."

"How?"

Reid knew, exactly. He'd been so grateful for it, at the time. " _I_ was important to _her_. She cared about _me_. She cared about what I thought, and what I did."

"And that doesn't happen with anyone else?"

"Well….yes, of course. You…..JJ. The rest of the team." Purposely squelching memories of the times they hadn't hesitated to tell him they _didn't_ want to know what he thought.

Hotch gave him a sideways look. "But it's different. How?"

Reid seemed less upset with him now, more engaged in the problem. Back to solving the puzzle.

"I don't know, I guess it's that….sometimes they're just being polite. Or not." Making Hotch smile. "But…I guess it's that…it's a matter of convenience, more than anything else. If I'm there, they ask. If I'm not, they go about their day." He realized it sounded almost like a complaint, and rushed to add, "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I wouldn't expect anything different."

"But, with Maeve, it _was_ different."

"With Maeve, I was a priority. That doesn't happen with anyone else. It can't. They all have relationships in their lives that have to come first." _Even JJ._

Launching a prayer that he would be able to bring his genius where he so needed to get to, Hotch took a deep breath, and asked, "Why do you think Maeve's caring about you changed your life? How?"

Reid had to think a moment. Somehow he'd missed asking himself this question, simply enjoying the fact of it. "I think...maybe because, if she cared about me, and I valued what she thought...maybe it made me value myself a little more? See myself differently?" Ending with an upward inflection, not at all sure he'd found his answer.

Hotch gave a silent thanks for the assistance from above. They were making progress. Now, to bring him further along.

"How did you see yourself differently?"

Reid shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I saw fewer of my faults. Or maybe they just didn't seem so terrible."

The man sitting across from him looked askance through his heavy brow, as though not quite satisfied with the answer. Reid took his cue.

"All right. Maybe I started to see myself through her eyes, and found some good things I'd forgotten were there."

He was rewarded with a nod this time. Even before the loss of Maeve, even going back to that time in Georgia, and what followed, Hotch knew Reid had buried much of himself in a mound of self-recrimination. His emergence had been a long, slow process, nurtured, eventually, by his relationship with Maeve. And then reversed, by her loss.

Reid's mentor altered his approach, just a little. "What do you think Maeve would have said was the purpose of her life?"

The young man had a ready answer for that one. "Maeve was a gifted scientist. She was using her life to help alleviate suffering in the lives of others."

_Not quite there. Try again._

"What if her work had been unsuccessful? That's what happens with many scientists, isn't it? Most, probably? What if her work had been unsuccessful? What would have been the purpose of her life then? Would you have loved her less?"

"No!" Responding to the last question first. And back to wondering why his boss was trying to provoke him. But then, relenting, engaging with the question. "Her life would have still had purpose just because she'd tried. And because she was important in mine."

_There._

Hotch remained silent, knowing he wouldn't have to complete the loop. Reid was a genius. He'd get there. But watching it happen, through the expressions on his face, was fascinating.

"So, you're saying that it doesn't _matter_ if we succeed. That it only matters that we tried. Or that we even _wanted_ to try? You're saying that who we are is as important as what we do. More important, maybe. Who we are to one another. Is that what you're saying?"

Hotch leaned in to him. "That's what _you're_ saying. And I think you're right."

They'd been so intent on their exchange that neither of them had noticed when Linda Kimura appeared in the doorway. Now, she gave a gentle knock to draw their attention.

"I thought you'd want to know that Agent Jareau is awake. The pulmonologist is examining her now. But I think we'll be able to pull the tube in a few hours."

Reid's eyes asked his question.

Kimura nodded. "Yes, her family is with her."

Reid gave her a small smile. "Thanks."

After Kimura left, the two BAU men exchanged a look. They hadn't quite answered the unanswerable. But they'd made progress. And, Hotch hoped, he'd brought Reid back from a brink he'd been standing on for far too long. Maybe only a step or two back, but back nonetheless. Now, it was time to return to work.

Hotch turned his phone back on and pressed a number. When the call connected, he spoke.

"Garcia, we're ready."


	33. Chapter 33

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 33**

Garcia conferenced them all, Hotch and Reid at the hospital, Rossi and Hirsch at DHS headquarters, and Kate and Morgan in the field. The latter two were on their way to visit several of the known DC area properties owned by DTA. Rossi already knew, but Garcia filled the others in on the good news about JJ when she connected them.

"Hey, Kid, you did it! She's really gonna be okay?"

His happiness about JJ's condition was evident in Morgan's voice. And so was his pride in his 'little brother'. Reid was glad his friend couldn't see him blushing.

"Kimura thinks so. She's optimistic, anyway. She thinks they'll be able to extubate her in a few hours, if she keeps heading in the right direction."

"Yay!" Kate's voice sounded over the phone. "I don't have to tell you how worried I was about her. Thank God, Spencer!"

_I'll thank Him when she's home, with Henry._

Hirsch added his own congratulations. "I'm glad to hear your agent is doing better, Agent Hotchner."

"Thank you." Then he got down to business. "Status report, please."

Rossi's voice came first. "Do you want the good news first, or the bad news?"

"The good." He'd know what he could put aside, and be able to begin strategizing on the problem areas right away.

"Garcia?" Rossi handed it over to their technical analyst, the very fact of which told the listeners that there'd been progress on the hacking front.

"All right." Trying to keep it professional, since DHS was in on the call. "The good news is that…well, I guess it's not actually good news, since I was able to do it, but…. I was able to get into all four of the major networks. Into their news affiliate network, anyway. It wasn't all that difficult…well, for me, that is. But, then, I'm me!"

Hotch was trying to picture Sid Hirsch as he listened to a toned-down Garcia report that hadn't quite made it all the way down. _I can just imagine._

Rossi had no need to imagine. He was sitting right next to the man. He was trying to figure out if he could get a surreptitious photo of Hirsch's facial expression with his cell phone camera, to show his good friend Aaron later on.

"Garcia?" Hotch reminded her she was giving an official report.

"Sir! Yes, so… as I said, I had no trouble breaking in. Which is both bad news for the networks, but good news for us. Because, while I was in there, I had company."

"Another hacker?" asked Reid.

"Yup. See, it happened this way. I made it pretty easily into the first two networks. Turns out all four of them had similar security...which is something that really ought to change in the future, by the way. So, once I was in one, it was pretty easy to get into the others. Just a few tweaks was all I needed."

"Baby Girl, where did you find the other hacker?"

Rossi suppressed a smile when he saw Hirsch's brows go up just the slightest bit.

"He was on all of them….or I hope he was. It happened like this. I made it in and out of the first network pretty quickly. Then, while I was in the second one, I could tell someone else was there too…practically right next to me, electronically speaking, of course. So I laid low for a little bit, 'cause I didn't want _him_ to see _me_. And, wouldn't you know it, he went right down the path I'd been planning to go down."

"Ms. Garcia, what did he do when he got in?" Hirsch had the sense this might be a long story, and wanted to get to the point.

Garcia was a bit put out, but tried not to let it show. After a pause, she responded, "He didn't do anything."

That was unexpected. "He didn't do anything?"

"No, Sir, Agent Hirsch. He backed right out again." She knew she held the upper hand now, and waited him out.

"Well, what happened next?"

Permission granted, Garcia continued. "When I saw how easily he'd gotten in….which really surprised me, by the way. It seems like these guys are more sophisticated than I'd given them credit for. Anyway, when I saw how easily he'd gotten in, I thought to myself, 'he must have done this before'. So, I prayed to the gods of technology that I would make the right choice, and I went and looked at the first network again. And I was right! He'd been in there already. But I couldn't find any changes. I think he did just the same as he did with the second. He went in, and came right back out again, without even looking around."

"What's the point of invading the communications network if they're not doing anything to disrupt it?" Kate voiced what all of them were thinking.

All of them, save Reid. He knew, or thought he did. "They're getting ready."

"For what?" asked Sid Hirsch. His faith in the BAU's resident genius was, by now, absolute.

"They're going to do something coordinated. It's too early to know if they're going to try to hack the feeds to broadcast a message, or if they're just going to try to disrupt our ability to get word out to the public, after they accomplish another attack."

Hotch agreed. "Or they may be planning to do both, successively."

Rossi was ready to move ahead. "So, what do we do?"

"Ahem. AHE-EM!"

Reid and Hotch exchanged an amused look. It seemed their technical analyst was perturbed.

"Yes, Garcia?" Hotch prompted her.

" _As_ I was saying, before you all got involved, there's something you'll want to know about the hackers."

Reid was conciliatory. "Sorry, Garcia. Go ahead."

"Not to worry, Boy Genius. You're probably right about why they went in and out so quickly. But I was worried that maybe they'd followed me in on the first one somehow, and just replicated it with the second. So I went to another network, and I could tell they hadn't been there yet. I watched them from start to finish, that time. And, whew! They took a different route, but they got there just the same. So I don't think I led them inside, thank goodness."

"What about the fourth network, Baby Girl?"

"They haven't been there yet, either. It's almost like they started hacking right around the time I did. I'm just a little fleeter with my fingers."

Hotch had a thought. "Garcia, if they haven't been into the fourth network yet, can you…"

"Already done, my liege. I was able to trace them back a bit from network number three, but I've got some new, exquisite little marker thingies that should bring us right to them if they try to get into that last broadcast network."

" _If_ ," said Rossi, simultaneously with Hirsch repeating, "Marker thingies?"

Rossi just shrugged at his new DHS best buddy. "Just go with it."

* * *

The bad news was that they'd made no further progress finding the people behind DTA. And that they'd learned that the bodies of four of the six students still missing from the school had been identified, through dental records. Only Jose Martinez and Gary Wu were still unaccounted for. One was presumed to be the owner of the body that had been burned beyond recognition. Since no dental records could be found for either, the search was still on for both. Hotch watched Reid swallow back some emotion at the news.

For the remainder of the call, Hirsch filled the team in on what DHS was doing in the presumed target cities. Then the group batted around a few ideas about what their opponents might be planning, trying to think like a terrorist cell might think. As the conversation wore on, Hotch noticed that Reid was contributing less and less. Looking at the young man, his unit chief could see the exhaustion in his features.

They closed the call with Morgan and Kate tasked with completing their visits to the various DTA-held properties in the DC area.

"Don't approach the buildings directly. One or more may be serving as some sort of local headquarters, and we don't want to precipitate something we're not prepared for," advised Hotch.

"Not to mention that we don't want them to know that we know," added Rossi. The years had taught him never to assume 'the obvious' was obvious to everyone.

Morgan was on board, but Kate wasn't quite sure what she was being asked to do.

"So, what does that leave us?"

Morgan answered from the driver's seat of the vehicle they shared. "We profile the area. We look at the neighborhood, see what's available for shopping or transportation. Can they get what they need locally, or would they have to travel? If there are local supplies, can they give us a hint about what they might have planned?"

Kate understood. "Okay, I get it. It's a lot like a police investigation and surveillance….. just done profiler-style."

"Exactly. Sort of."

"So, say we find one of these properties is near an electronics shop, it might be where they got the drone?"

Morgan was nodding at her from the other seat. "And it would point us to focus on _that_ property."

"But…couldn't Penelope just look it up for us? You know, tell us what kinds of stores and such are in the area." Kate had seen it happen before, and been nonplussed every time.

"She could. But there's a lot of 'street-merchandising' in some of these areas. Those don't show up on Garcia's computers."

"Alas!" came over the phone, "I'm afraid Morgan is right. There _is_ something I can't do."

Morgan's voice came over the connection to the hospital. "All right, Hotch. We're on it. Hey, Pretty Boy, you did good today. Now make sure you take care of yourself. And you give JJ our love, okay?"

Reid's voice came out as a croak. "I will."

Hotch made a few more arrangements with Rossi and Hirsch, and then closed the connection. He turned to Reid with concerned eyes.

"You look terrible. How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a truck."

"Should I call Kimura?"

"Nah, I'm all right, I think. It's just the immune response, but it was a pretty good inoculum, and I think it's getting a pretty good reaction."

Hotch squinted at him. Reid's proclivity for underplaying his own physical limitations wasn't lost on his superior.

"Why don't you just lie down, then? Get some rest. I think, now that JJ seems to be improving, I should get back to DHS. I can check in with you later, by phone."

Reid was too tired to do anything but agree. He swung his legs up onto the bed and laid his head back against the pillow, struggling to keep his eyes open long enough to see Hotch leave.

The senior agent was nearing the doorway when he heard his name called.

"Hotch?"

He turned around and looked.

Reid summoned the energy for a small smile of gratitude. "Thanks….for before. Thanks."

The older man delivered his trademark minimal nod, and left.

* * *

But he departed only the room, not the hospital. Hotch went to the nursing area and asked them to call Dr. Kimura. She surprised him by exiting a room a little way down the hall from Reid.

"I was with Agent Jareau."

Immediate concern. "Is she all right?"

Kimura realized he'd misunderstood. "Oh, yes. Don't worry. I was meeting with the pulmonologist. We're going to check her numbers again in two hours. If they stay on trend, and if she's keeping up her own respiratory effort, we're going to remove the endotracheal tube."

Relief. "That's excellent news. But I asked the nurses to call you about Reid. He's looking worse, to me. I wondered if you could examine him."

Concerned that maybe their gamble _hadn't_ been so successful, Kimura was already on her way, answering over her shoulder, "Of course!"

* * *

Reid had already fallen asleep when Kimura appeared at his bedside. He roused to the feeling of her fingers on his wrist, where she was checking his pulse.

"Hi," he croaked.

"Hi yourself, Dr. Reid. How do you feel?"

"Tired. Achy. Like I can't move."

Those symptoms weren't unexpected. But others might be.

"What about your chest? Do you have any pain? Are you having any trouble breathing?"

The exhausted genius brain took much longer than usual to process the questions and answers.

"I don't think so. No."

Kimura had already rung for a nurse to do an unscheduled set of vitals. As they were completed, she asked, "Temperature?"

"101.6."

Also not unexpected, although it had risen faster, and higher, than she'd thought it would.

"Blood pressure?"

"110 over 70."

Kimura turned back to Reid. "Do you know your baseline?"

Another slow response. "I think that's about right."

Kimura mused on it all for a moment. _Temp's up, but not out of range. BP is okay. He's washed out and exhausted, but that's to be expected._

Decision made. "All right, Dr. Reid. I think we'll let you rest. But I'm going to ask the nurses to get hourly vitals on you for a little while. And please make sure we know if you have any symptoms related to your lungs. Any chest discomfort…even the slightest cough. Can I rely on you?"

Reid was having trouble keeping his eyes open. "Sssurre," he slurred.

"All right. I'll see you in a bit."

She ushered the nurse out of the room as well, and closed the door behind them. Hotch was still waiting down the hallway. They met each other midway.

"Is he all right?"

She gave him a slow, if uncertain, nod. "I think so. It's probably just the strength of his reaction. But, to be safe, we're going to watch him more closely."

"You know, he has a tendency to minimize."

Kimura smiled at him. "So I've gathered. But, don't worry, I've got my eye on him." _I'll do the worrying for both of us._

* * *

Arriving at DHS, Hotch became a subject of his old comrade's long-practiced profiling skills. He'd intended to keep his concerns about Reid to himself, being confident that his younger charge was in good hands, and knowing that his team needed to focus on their work. Their worry about JJ had been an unavoidable distraction. But now it had been alleviated. No need to bring them a new one, not without knowing.

But Rossi could read him like a book, which had always irked Hotch. He was justly proud of his ability to mask his reactions to the public and, most necessarily, to the LEOs with whom they so often worked. That he had absolutely no ability to mask them from Rossi had been the subject of much good-natured teasing.

"Don't worry about it, Aaron. You still get to be Luke Skywalker. Then you grow into Obi Wan. It's just that…well, I'm Yoda."

Rossi may have preferred a cigar convention to ComicCon, but that didn't mean he was unversed in popular 80's culture. Just in pretty much everything that came _after_ the 80's.

This time, Yoda called out Luke.

"What's wrong? JJ? Has she relapsed?"

Hotch knew enough not to try hiding it. "No, she's still improving."

"Our boy genius, then?" Rossi's fondness for Reid was evident in the furrow of his brow.

"He's looking a little worse for the wear. Kimura checked on him just before I left. She still thinks it's just the immune reaction, but she's worried enough to keep a close eye on him."

Rossi smiled to himself…..but it was a sad smile. Then he explained. "You know, my sainted grandmother used to tell me she had to get up at four o'clock every morning, just so she could get through her list of people to pray for. I think I'm beginning to understand her."

Hotch smiled at his old friend. "Maybe add one for me. We're not exactly on good terms."

"I will."

* * *

Four hours later, Linda Kimura was dealing with a dilemma. Both of her patients had stabilized. But that was just it. They'd _stabilized_ , but not improved.

Jennifer Jareau's recovery process had slowed to a crawl, if that. She was intermittently awake, showing a better respiratory effort during those periods than when she was asleep. But she was still intubated.

Spencer Reid's fever had risen only another four tenths of a point, and the rest of his vitals remained stable. He'd slept through the last set of measurements, momentarily concerning Kimura. So she'd shaken him awake, just to be sure she could, and then let him fall immediately back to sleep.

But she wasn't sure she could let him sleep much longer.

_She probably needs another infusion. She would undoubtedly do better with more antibodies on board. But maybe that would suppress her own reaction. The question is, do we care about that? What are the odds she'll ever need to make hantavirus antibodies again in her life?_

_On the other hand, we don't usually collect plasma from the same individual more than once in twenty four hours. But Spencer's reaction probably means he's got an even higher level of antibody now than he had before. Or not. It could just be the cascade. And, even if his antibodies are high….I just infected him with a deadly virus. He's going to need those antibodies. But, how many? Can he afford to give her more?  
_

JJ _had_ improved from when she was most ill, even if she wasn't still improving. Maybe they should just wait it out. Maybe she would begin developing antibodies of her own. Maybe Reid didn't have to be put through another round of apheresis.

Kimura had just begun the impossible mental task of trying to read the minds of her patients. She knew Spencer Reid better, of course. Well enough to know he would tell her to do whatever she needed to do to him, to help his friend. What little she'd seen of Jennifer Jareau had told her that she'd hear much the opposite _. Let me handle the rest of this on my own. He's been through enough. Let him rest._

The decision was made for her when, another hour later, she received the latest update on JJ. Her oxygen requirement was creeping back up as was, perhaps, the fluid in her lungs.

_No longer stabilized. Regressing._

Kimura was actually grateful to have an ethical second opinion when she fielded an inquiry from Aaron Hotchner, checking on his agents. She'd been given permission to share any and all information with him, and she did so now, choosing to include her concern about following her patients' wishes.

Like Kimura, Hotch was used to making difficult decisions. Unlike her, he knew both of the patients in question very well. Neither of them would have been thinking with their brains in this situation. But he had to.

"I know, when you ask him, that he'll want you to go ahead. And I think you should. If you think it's what she needs, go ahead. Just….." And here was his own ethical dilemma. "Just don't tell Agent Jareau that he's sick. Let her think it's an expected part of the treatment. You already have consent on the infusion process, don't you? You don't need to get it again?" He was afraid JJ might refuse, if she knew.

"No, I don't need to get it again." _Technically_. They'd agreed on doing it for as often as it looked like it was helping. But the unstated assumption was that it wouldn't jeopardize Reid. Now, she couldn't be so sure.

"Then do it," he said again. "Please."

Kimura sighed. It was what she'd wanted to hear, and yet she still had doubts. But there wasn't really any other choice.

"All right. I'll get them started."

* * *

Sandy Jareau was on her way back from a visit to the hospital chapel when she saw Spencer Reid being wheeled out of his hospital room and down the hallway, toward her. She gasped at the sight of him. He was slumped down in the chair, the pallor of his face in marked contrast to the dark shadows surrounding his eyes.

"Spencer! Are you all right?"

"I'm okay. I just need to give JJ a little bit more of me." His attempt at a smile was all the more pitiful for its contrast with the rest of his appearance.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. We need to get him downstairs." The aide was in a hurry to complete his duty.

Sandy apologized. "I'm sorry, I won't hold you. Just let me…." And she bent and hugged Reid in his chair, whispering into his ear as she did so. "I will never forget this, Spencer." She finished with a kiss to the top of his head.

Reid and his aide proceeded off the floor. After a quick check with Will and a peck on her sleeping daughter's cheek, Sandy headed off the floor as well. She wanted to go back to the chapel once again. She had two mothers' children to pray for.


	34. Chapter 34

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 34**

Kimura only wished she had time to visit the chapel herself. Neither of her two FBI agent patients was doing well. She carried the familiar sense of worry about the one, just as she had done for so many patients over the years. Jennifer Jareau was still on her downward trajectory, but hadn't yet begun to receive the latest infusion of Reid's plasma. It was simply too soon to expect her to resume the improvement she'd been showing earlier. All Kimura could do was to try to keep her from getting too much sicker before the turnaround. The _hoped-for_ turnaround. The one that wasn't guaranteed to come.

It was the other patient who was weighing most heavily on Kimura's mind. Spencer Reid's condition had deteriorated as well. At the end of his apheresis session, he'd been unable to transfer himself from the procedure chair back into the wheelchair, nearly passing out with his effort. She'd been concerned, but still able to attribute his weakness to the strength of his immune response. What she'd done to him…. _with_ him, as he'd insisted she think of it….had simply never been done before. They had only a theoretical expectation of how it would go. But the reality was proving to be more frightening than anyone had expected. And then…..

The coughing started as he was wheeled down the hallway and back to his room. Kimura was right beside him, having been called to the lab when he'd frightened the staff there. Just as she'd been right beside him in that ambulance, years ago, when _that_ cough had begun. _Oh, my God. What have I done?_

"Dr. Reid, are you having trouble breathing? Does your chest hurt you?"

He managed to answer, between bouts of coughing. "No. And no."

When they arrived at his room, Kimura and the aide helped Reid out of the chair and into the bed. Kimura was alarmed at how heavily he seemed to be leaning on her, and started quizzing him again.

"Can you tell me how you feel? Are you weak? Do you have pain anywhere? Nausea? Dizziness?"

She'd signaled as they'd passed the nurses' station, and one of the nurses joined them now. Without waiting for Reid to answer, Kimura asked for an immediate set of vitals, including a reading of his oxygen level. "In fact, Margie, just put him on the monitors. We'll need to follow it all."

With that underway, she turned back to her patient. "Dr. Reid?"

The cough seemed to subside for a bit, allowing him to speak more easily. "No nausea. No dizziness. No chest pain. My arms and legs…well, and my back…are sore, and I'm pretty wiped out. That's all."

"That's enough. You do realize you nearly passed out down in the lab, don't you?" Remembering Aaron Hotchner's warning about Reid's tendency to minimize.

Coughing again. "I was just lightheaded for a minute, that's all. I'm all right now. I don't need any of this…." He tried, and failed, to wave his arm at the sensors that were being attached to him.

Kimura just looked at him. "Right." Then she turned to the nurse. "All hooked up?"

"All set." She turned on the machine, which whizzed and beeped for a moment before settling in on the steady readings coming from the body in the bed. All three occupants of the room read them at the same time.

"See, my blood pressure is fine. My pulse is up, but that's to be expected. My…."

"Your temperature is still going up, and your pulse ox is only 91%. Neither of those things are fine." She turned away from the monitors to look at him. "Dr. Reid…Spencer….I'm so sorry, but I'm afraid this isn't just an immune response. I'm afraid I've actually infected you."

* * *

"When will we know if it's workin'?" Will LaMontagne had been at his wife's bedside almost constantly for the past twenty-four hours. Now, two hours after her infusion had been completed, he continued his vigil, watching JJ for any subtle change in status, trusting his own eyes more than he did the monitors.

Kimura looked like she needed the hospital bed herself. She'd had a few interrupted hours of sleep in a call room, but had otherwise been managing the care of one or another of her patients nearly non-stop for the past two days. And she had no intention of leaving them before she was satisfied that their lives were no longer in danger.

"I'm sorry, Detective. It's all theoretical. Based on other attempts at infusing antibodies, I can tell you that it's usually a pretty rapid response. But it has, literally, never been done before with hantavirus. And it's definitely never been done by reinfecting the donor."

This wasn't the first time she'd been through this with him. But, as so often happened, the distraught husband was having trouble processing information. Just as he needed the constant assurance that they were doing all they could…..and _more_ , thanks to Spencer Reid

* * *

Sandy Jareau wasn't in JJ's room. Nor was she in the chapel. She was holding her own vigil, at the bedside of another woman's child.

_He doesn't have anyone to be with him. It's the least thing I can do, after he's done so much to try to help my Jennifer. Please don't let him have given his life._

Sandy studied the sleeping figure in the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. Dr. Kimura had explained it as a good sign.

Watching him, Sandy thought back to the first time she'd met Spencer, and a sad smile came to her lips. JJ had recounted for her the circumstances of Reid's life at the time of Henry's birth, by way of explaining why she'd overridden Will's wishes on the selection of a godfather for their son.

"He came right to the hospital to see us, Mom. Rossi and Morgan were too tired, after flying cross-country. And Spence probably was, too. But that didn't matter. He came anyway. Poor guy…he'd already looked awful when I'd said goodbye to him in Vegas. When he showed up at the hospital, I thought I was going to have to get up and give him my bed! His parents….Mom, sometimes I don't even know how he managed to grow up. But he did, and I couldn't think of anyone who would make a better godfather for Henry. If you could have seen the look on his face when he first held your grandson….well, you'd understand."

So she'd heard a lot about the young man, but Sandy hadn't met him until the christening. And then she'd been concerned that he might blow over in a strong wind. As much as she trusted her daughter's judgment, Sandy hadn't been at all impressed with the wisdom of this particular decision. Until they'd gotten to the church, and Spencer had made his promises, staring at the infant Henry in his arms as he did so. Both godfather and godson had been wide-eyed, intent on one another. To Sandy, it was obvious that Spencer had fallen in love with Henry. And that was when Sandy had fallen in love with Spencer.

Now, as she sat by his side, and studied his features, Sandy uttered another in a string of silent prayers.

_Be with them both. Even if he doesn't know You, I know that_ You _know him. Be with him, and with Jennifer. And give them both back to us. Please.  
_

Sandy turned at the sound of someone entering the room. "Hello, Dr. Kimura."

Kimura smiled. "How's our patient?"

"I think he's really sleeping. He was coughing a little while ago, but I think he looks pretty comfortable now. What do you think of his numbers?"

Kimura had already analyzed the digits and waves showing on the monitors.

"He's definitely doing better with the supplemental oxygen. And his fever is coming down, now that we're treating it."

She'd explained that treating his fever would make Reid more comfortable overall. But treating the fever would also inhibit the immune response, to some degree. If JJ needed more plasma, Reid might have fewer antibodies to offer her.

She hadn't expressed it aloud, to anyone. But Kimura was certain they were done with the infusions. If Reid was truly infected, he would need his own antibodies. And, even if not infected, he was simply too ill for the process. It was true that they gave his blood back to him each time, but it was also true that some of it was hemolyzed, broken down, each time. On top of everything else, Reid was becoming anemic. Which wasn't good for anyone, but especially not for someone who's oxygen was low. One needed those red blood cells to carry that oxygen.

She'd explained the process issues about fever, and infusions, and infections…but she'd not told either of JJ's family members that, after this last infusion, she had nothing more to offer. Kimura just knew that she couldn't sacrifice one life for the other. Not on purpose, and not even if it was what Reid would want. Not even if it was what JJ's family would want. What JJ's husband would want.

Proving that JJ came by her intelligence honestly, Sandy had made the leap.

"Spencer can't afford to give her anything more, can he?"

Kimura's inability to maintain eye contact told Sandy all she needed to know.

"It's all right. He's already done more than we had a right to expect. I don't want him to risk his life. And my daughter wouldn't want it either."

Kimura heard the words, but knew Sandy was using the wrong tense. _He's already risked it._

Aloud, she responded, "Let's hope this last infusion was the answer. She'd been making progress. With more antibodies on board, she should turn around."

"And Spencer?"

Kimura hesitated for several beats. "His system is primed. He should be able to fight it off _." If we haven't already siphoned off too much of what he needs to do so.  
_

* * *

Hotch felt the vibration against his chest. Ordinarily, in such a high-powered meeting as this one, he would have let the call go to voice mail. It was never seemly to be rude to the higher-ups in any of the acronymed agencies. Except, he reasoned, when one was in the middle of a terror-related crisis. Still, he was as covert as he could be in removing the phone from his vest pocket.

Rossi was seated next to him, and had been able to hear the vibration. Now he watched his old friend, as Hotch took one look at the caller ID and was up and out of his seat.

"I'm sorry, I've got to take this," he offered the others, as he stepped out into the hallway.

Rossi noticed one of the DHS brass looking annoyed, and shot him a look of his own. _Don't piss off the guy who came back from retirement. I can always go back from whence I came. So I have nothing to lose. I just may tell you exactly what I think of you._

But he held his tongue, not wanting to distract the group from their important work. They were, finally, operating as a cohesive group…relatively speaking. At the start of the meeting, Rossi had been heartened to notice that one of the DHS associate directors….the one of the 'annoyed look'….. had appeared a bit chastened, and deduced that he'd been the obstacle in Sid Hirsch's flow of information. With him functionally set aside, this meeting had been convened. It was the first one they'd had with the top level of DHS, and it was the first joint meeting that also included Mateo Cruz.

DHS Director Charles Walker was a man Rossi could respect. He'd started the meeting with an inquiry to Hotch about the status of his two hospitalized agents, expressing his agency's official concern and good wishes. That alone would have endeared him to the BAU men. But then he'd apologized for a politically-put 'miscommunication' within his own agency that, he'd said, had prevented them from working more closely with the FBI on a matter of national security. He'd noted that DHS had resolved their communications issues, throwing a not-so-subtle glance at Associate Director William Pickering as he'd done so. From long practice, Rossi and Hotch had mastered the sideways look to one another. They'd shared one at Walker's announcement, and Pickering's reactive squirm.

After that, Mateo Cruz had deferred to his BAU unit chief to recount the progress the team had made so far, and the current status of the investigation. Sid Hirsch had summarized DHS's work in New York and Los Angeles, and made a point of noting that they were now working jointly with the FBI in those cities as well.

Which brought them to the present moment. In Hotch's absence, Rossi answered the question Director Walker had just put to them.

"The profile points us at this Martinez kid, but we're still waiting on a solid ID from the medical examiner. He's kind of a poster child for the failings in the child welfare system…he's had so many placements that they've lost track of any dental records. But he's the kind of disaffected kid we profiled would be most vulnerable to a recruiter. The other missing boy is from a first generation immigrant family. A _legal_ immigrant family," he added, for the benefit of the several DHS members looking ready to pounce.

Pickering wasn't put off. "There's nothing to prevent a legal immigrant….or even a native-born American, for that matter…..from collaborating with the enemy." His distaste for the use of profiling in the fight against terror was obvious in both his words and his tone.

Rossi saw Hirsch about to open his mouth to reply, but raised his hand to stop him, in a gesture that said, ' _I've got this'_.

"We profiled a type, Associate Director, not a person. The type tells us that our most likely terror cell recruit is a disaffected youth, more often male than female. Of the two kids still unaccounted for, the non-immigrant fits the profile. That's why we think we should be focusing on his contacts."

Charles Walker seemed satisfied with that. Looking at the information before him on his tablet, he noted, "It looks like this unfortunate young man has had six placements over the last six months alone. Sid, assign two agents to each of the site details, to pair with the FBI. We need to be quick about this. We've already lost 38 of our fellow citizens."

"Thirty-seven," corrected Pickering, not seeming chastened at all, to Rossi. "One of the dead _did_ this, remember."

Rossi could have argued the point with him. He could have reminded Pickering that some suicide bombers carried out their deeds under duress. But Rossi had concluded, long ago, that some minds were meant to be ignorant, and he pitied William Pickering for owning one of those minds.

Pickering wasn't quite done, either. "I'd like to have a unit on the other family as well. The 'legal immigrant' family. Since time is of the essence, I don't think we should wait to find out we should have been investigating them."

Rossi was just wondering if Pickering had something on his superior, that he could speak so freely and defiantly, when Hotch reentered the room. He flashed eye contact with Rossi, alerting him to trouble, before he took his seat.

Walker saw the look as well. "Is there a development you need to report to us, Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch was straight-faced as he replied, "Nothing related to the case, sir."

That got Matt Cruz's attention. It could only mean things had turned for JJ or Reid. He furrowed his brow at the unit chief, but received only a barely visible shake of the head in response.

The meeting wound up quickly after that, with a few other joint and individual assignments handed out. Walker showed his appreciation for the process of field work when he declined the suggestion that the group meet twice daily.

"We need to let our people get their work done. We'll conference once a day, by phone if necessary, and as needed for any developments. Please remember that you are all entrusted with the safety and security of the American people, as are all the fine agents who work for you. Now, let's get to it."

As the meeting broke up, Cruz made his way over to Hotch and Rossi.

"Is it JJ?" He shared a special feeling of kinship with the agent who'd been with him in Afghanistan, and who, like he, had been imprisoned and tortured in a lonely industrial basement just last year.

Hotch looked at each of his colleagues. "It's both of them. JJ hasn't improved at all. And now Kimura thinks Reid isn't just reacting. She thinks he's actively infected."

Cruz was visibly upset. "Can't we bring in someone else? Get someone here from the CDC? There's got to be something!"

Rossi was equally upset, but better at keeping it in check. "Does Kimura have a plan?"

Hotch answered each of them, successively. "Kimura is contracted with the CDC. If there was anyone else she thought could help, I'm sure she'd have them here already." Turning to Rossi, he added, grimly, "She _does_ have a plan. But most of it seems to involve prayer."

* * *

"Will, honey, why don't you take a break? Go for a walk, or get yourself a cup of coffee."

As much as she wanted to support Spencer Reid, Sandy had felt drawn back to her daughter's bedside. She'd found Will there, his head resting on his hands, which lay on the side of JJ's bed. He was obviously exhausted, as was she. Holding vigil wasn't quite as taxing as fighting for one's life, but it was up there.

"I don't wanna leave her. What if she wakes up?"

"If she wakes up, I'll be here." Sandy tried for a little humor. "Do you want to scare her when she opens her eyes? She'll think she's been captured by a yeti." Will hadn't shaved for five days, since the day he'd left for the camping trip with Henry. "Come on, why don't you go and get some rest, and then you can freshen up. Dr. Kimura has arranged for us to have a room in the hospitality suite."

"Are you sure? Maybe…. I guess I can go for a little bit. I need to call Henry, anyway. I'll tell him his momma and daddy both have to work. He's used to it."

"But he's usually with someone he knows better than Meg….either me, or Penelope, or Karen, his sitter. He might be nervous spending overnight in a new place."

Will could only stand and look at his mother-in-law, helpless. "What do I do then? I can't leave JJ. And I know you don't want to leave her either."

They were at a crossroads moment. Sandy had been thinking and praying about it as she'd sat with Reid. She loved her grandson with all her heart, just as she loved her daughter. The last thing she would ever want to do would be to hurt or frighten him. But she also knew the fierce love between JJ and Henry, and that it ran both ways.

She'd prayed for guidance about whether to bring the little boy to the hospital. Whether he should see his mother in her hospital bed. Whether he should, God forbid… _please, God, forbid it_!...have a final image of his mother in that condition. Or whether she should let him remain in ignorant bliss, and hope for the best. Let him maintain the image of a vibrant, healthy JJ, even if that image was all he would have left of her.

And she'd made a decision, hoping that she'd been guided to it.

"Maybe we should bring him here, Will."

Her son-in-law seemed caught off guard, as though his thoughts had been occupied elsewhere.

"You think…. Why? To scare the boy?"

Apparently Sandy had been coming to terms with the situation they were in, while Will had not. She laid a hand on his arm.

"Will, you know how much I love Henry. I love _all_ of you. And I'm just as devastated by what's happened to Jennifer….to all of us. But I think we have to be realistic. Dr. Kimura has told us she's done all she can do. Spencer can't give her any more plasma, and there are no more medications to be used. All we can do now is wait. It's not that I don't have hope, Will. I do. But I also know there's no guarantee. It could be that all we have left is time. And I don't want….and I don't think _you_ want…to look back and realize you didn't give that to Henry. Time with his mother."

Will was completely spent, depleted of energy and any and all ability to cope. He just looked at his mother-in-law and began to weep. "I love her, Sandy. I love her and our son. I don't know what I'll do without her."

Standing before her was yet another motherless son, mourning the prospect that his own son could become motherless. Sandy opened her arms to Will, and let him cry on her shoulder. As she did, she couldn't help but think of the daughter she'd lost so long ago. With the prospect of it happening again, Sandy wondered what happened to a mother's love when there was no one left to receive it.


	35. Chapter 35

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 35**

Morgan and Kate were cruising past the last of the properties owned by DTA, taking note of its surroundings and the people on the street.

"The last three seem pretty similar to me. The main difference was whether they were two or three family homes," offered Kate.

Her partner agreed. "They all seem to be in a reasonable state of repair, too. So that means DTA is spending some money on them. It's hard to keep rental units in good condition."

That reminded Kate. "Did I hear you say that you own properties yourself?"

"That's right. I renovate. Usually I flip them, but I've kept a couple of units as rentals. But I've been lucky with my tenants."

She teased him. "Do you profile them, when they apply, and weed out the riff raff?"

He laughed. "Don't I wish! But that's not quite legal. If they qualify, I have to rent it to them. It really has been luck that I've had good tenants."

Kate got them back to business. "All right, so we know that DTA has a range of properties, mostly two and three family homes, but also a couple of small apartment buildings. And we know they're in reasonable repair….at least, they seem to be, from the outside. Shouldn't we try to inspect the inside as well?"

"Remember, Hotch wanted us to wait, in case they're alerted to watch for us. We don't want to tip our hand before we've got everything we need in place." He went back to the property profiling. "Tell me what we've got in terms of the surrounding neighborhoods."

Kate looked down at her notes. "Well, we've got that one property that's near a youth center, but not _your_ youth center. Otherwise, the neighborhoods are all pretty similar. A few corner convenience stores, a glut of fast food and package stores, some churches, a few small parks….the schools, of course…..and some services…..a laundromat, a check-cashing place, a library branch...oh, and that miniscule police booth. What we didn't find was a nice, obvious electronics store with a sign that said 'drones sold here'."

Morgan chuckled as he looked over at his companion. "You didn't really expect to find that electronics store now, did you?"

Kate smiled. "No, I didn't think we would be so lucky. I'm guessing that would be more of a street vendor around here, right? I mean, we're not exactly at the mall."

"Yeah, you're right about that. It's gonna take some street surveillance to find the roving vendors. We'll make our report, and then maybe we can get a few teams assigned to visit the neighborhoods at different times of day."

Kate followed his signal, and launched the call, putting her phone on speaker. Hotch answered right away.

"You've got myself and Rossi here."

Kate summarized their findings, with an occasional supplemental comment from Morgan. She finished with the recommendation about the surveillance teams.

"It's a good idea, but we'll need to focus. We're at the maximum security threat level, which means Metro PD is stretched pretty thin right now. I think we'll be relying on FBI and DHS teams for this."

Morgan understood, and he had an idea. "If we have to limit ourselves, I'd say the first teams go to the properties near the second youth shelter and the one closest to the school the missing kids went to. I can handle the first shelter. They're logical places to start. They had to have access to them, to recruit."

Kate had an additional thought. "We know where Gary Wu lived, and it's not near any of the properties. But what about Jose Martinez? Shouldn't we look at where his placements were, and see if there's any overlap with the DTA neighborhoods?"

Morgan gave her an approving look. "Good thinking, Shorty. We can get Baby Girl going on that."

_'Shorty'. Apparently I've been accepted to the club._ Kate had already taken notice of Morgan's proclivity toward bestowing nicknames on his friends.

Hotch agreed with the strategy. " All right. Take a look at any additional areas that come out of the placement locations. Then meet us back at the BAU."

Morgan frowned at that. Most of the strategy work had been moved over to DHS by now. And it was rare for them to be pulled out of the field when things were breaking as urgently as they were in this case. Which raised his antennae, in a direction that concerned him.

"They're not doing so well, are they?"

Morgan feared the news was really bad, if Hotch felt a need to deliver it in person. But he had to know.

After too long a pause on the other end of the phone, Morgan asked again. "Hotch?"

The sigh came first. "It's too soon to tell about JJ. The infusion only went in a couple of hours ago. But Reid….. Kimura thinks he's actually infected."

Kate's eyes widened as she shared a look with her colleague.

"What does that mean?" demanded Morgan. "Is he getting sicker?"

Rossi took over, purposely slowing his words to imply a calmness he didn't actually feel.

"He's stable, Morgan. He's on oxygen, but that's it. It was one of the things we knew might happen. They're on it."

Rossi's phrasing strategy might have worked with a non-profiler, but not with Morgan.

"God damn it! I knew the Kid was taking too big a chance!"

Hotch's voice came over the phone again. "Morgan,.." But Morgan interrupted him.

"Hotch, it's on the way. I just want to swing by…."

He could have pulled rank, and insisted. But Hotch knew Morgan needed to see for himself, as much as he needed to feel like he'd done s _omething_ for his friends, even if that 'something' was only the bringing of his presence to their bedsides. He remembered how Morgan had insisted upon being present for Reid throughout the anthrax ordeal.

"All right. If they're awake….either of them…"

"Will do." _I'll tell them that thing you can't quite bring yourself to say._

Once the call ended, Kate looked back over at Morgan. "Do you want me to drive?" Seeing his degree of upset.

Her question brought him up short, and he backed off the gas, bringing the SUV back down to a non-threatening speed on the city streets.

"I'm all right. I just hope Blondie and the Kid are."

* * *

Telling Garcia was another thing entirely. After he and Hotch arrived at the BAU, Rossi made a rare trek to the technical analyst's lair, knocking softly on the door as he arrived.

Garcia twirled in her seat, startled. "Wha…. Oh, Rossi. Hi. I just sent the Martinez boy's placement locations to Morgan's phone. What else do you need?"

Obviously Morgan hadn't chosen to share anything with her.

_I'm not surprised. He'd be worried how she'd react, if she was alone when she heard. How many times has she told us how she worries about her 'babies'?_

Which announcement had always been met with disconcerted bemusement by Rossi, who hadn't been anyone's baby in a long, long time. But today, he understood.

When he started with "Penelope,"….she knew. Rossi watched as she visibly reinforced herself. In that moment, David Rossi came to understand Penelope Garcia in a whole new way. She might tend to dramatize in the less critical situations, perhaps thinking they enjoyed her fussing over them. But, when things were dire, when it truly _was_ a matter of life-or-death, she was all business. He'd seen it before, this steeliness in the misnamed 'weaker sex'. All four of the women he'd loved had shown it to him, from time to time. 

_And not just when they were showing me the door._

"What is it? _Who_ is it?" Garcia asked.

"Hotch heard from Dr. Kimura. JJ isn't any better, but she isn't any worse, either. They're still hoping that the latest infusion will make a difference."

Garcia took it in, nodding to herself. Then asked, in a small voice, "And Reid?"

Rossi watched for her reaction as he told her. "That news is not so good." Not that the news about JJ had been. "Dr. Kimura says that he's showing signs of an active infection. She's started him on oxygen."

Garcia teared up then. Raising her eyes to Rossi, she told him, "I was praying." Sounding disappointed not to have been heard.

He nodded. "So was I, Penelope. Still am. Don't stop. Maybe God will give us what we're asking for, just so He can get some peace and quiet."

* * *

Morgan passed right on by the nurses' station to where he saw Linda Kimura standing in the hallway, apparently conferring with a colleague. He waited while she finished her conversation, satisfied that she'd seen him. When she approached him, he queried her.

"How are they?"

She sounded exhausted, but heartened. "Agent Jareau is showing some small improvements. Her oxygen requirement is going back down. But she hasn't started breathing on her own yet."

Not breathing on one's own didn't sound good to Morgan. "Is that a bad sign?"

Kimura was noncommittal. "At this point, I think she's pretty worn out. The relapse took its toll. It will probably be a while before she's back to where she was before it came on."

Morgan nodded to himself. "All right. What about Reid?"

"He's stable. He's definitely got something going on in his lungs, but he hasn't had the rapid downhill course that Agent Jareau had. I'm optimistic that his on-board antibodies are doing what they're supposed to."

The tension that had built up in Morgan on the way to the hospital eased considerably.

"So, are you saying they're out of the woods?"

Kimura heaved a great sigh. "At this point, Agent Morgan, I don't feel comfortable saying anything. I'd thought Agent Jareau was out of the woods before, but I was obviously wrong. I guess all I can really say is that I'm cautiously optimistic."

Morgan seemed to get a good look at her for the first time. He'd been too anxious about his colleagues before.

"Doc, you look done in. Maybe you should get some rest. They're gonna need you when they come around, aren't they?"

Margie, Reid's nurse, was just preparing to go off shift as she passed them and heard Morgan's remark. "That's what we've been telling her. Dr. Kimura, please go and rest. Carla's coming on for me, and you know she's great. She'll call you if she thinks there's anything you need to know."

Kimura looked from one to the other, and nodded, giving in. "The very minute there's anything, Margie." And she walked off in the direction of the call room.

Morgan looked into the room where Kimura had been positioned, and saw a familiar figure sitting at the bedside.

_Will LaMontagne. Has to be JJ's room._ He knocked softly at the door, not wanting to startle Will….but also wanting to alert him that he had company. _Just in case._ Just in case he might be doing something 'unmanly' at the moment.

Will turned around and acknowledged Morgan with a sad smile. "Derek."

"Hey, Will. How is she?" Morgan walked over to the bed, using every ounce of profiler muscle to mask the shock he felt. He'd simply never seen anyone quite so ill.

He needn't have worried. Will's eyes were once again fixed on JJ.

"She's holdin' her own, I guess. They turned the oxygen down a little while ago. Dr. Kimura said it was a good sign."

Morgan nodded. "I just saw her in the hallway. She said Reid is stable, too."

"Is he? I didn't know."

That brought a sharp look from Morgan. _The man put his life on the line to save your wife, and you don't know how he's doing?_ But he could see that Will had all he could do to cope with JJ's condition. _Just cut him a break, Morgan._

"Kate Callahan is with me. She's in the lobby. I guess JJ's mom is bringing Henry here?"

Will nodded. "I still don't think it's a good idea for the boy to see his momma like this. But Sandy wants it."

Morgan was on the fence himself. "Well, I guess she's bringing Kate's niece Meg, too. That's who Kate is waiting for. Kate said Meg can look after Henry tonight, if you need her to."

Will looked like he was having trouble focusing enough to make such a decision. "We'll see."

Morgan reached down and put his arm on JJ's leg. "You hang in there, Blondie. You've got all of us pulling for you." Then he stood for an additional few seconds, head bowed and eyes closed.

Moving away, he patted Will on the shoulder. "You hang in there, man. She's gonna be okay." At Will's nod, Morgan added, "I'm gonna go find the Kid. You know where his room is?"

Will waved in a vague attempt at direction. "Down that way, somewhere."

* * *

It was 'down that way' and across the hall that Morgan spied the familiar figure lying in the hospital bed. It looked like he was attached to more wires and tubes than he had been in Texas, but fewer than that time when he was nearly killed by anthrax.

_There should be some kind of scoring system for the combined wire/tube count._

Reid's eyes were closed, but they opened to the sound of Morgan's knuckles rapping on his door.

Grateful to see at least one of his colleagues alert, Morgan smiled. "Hey, Kid. How you feelin'?"

Reid managed only a weak, "Hey," and a failed attempt at waving his fingers.

Morgan came over to the bed and pulled up a chair. Reid's monitors were beeping a steady, reassuring beat, but the young genius' face was faded well beyond his usual shade of pale. The oxygen cannula in his nostrils did nothing to improve his appearance, but at least it wasn't a tube in his throat, thought Morgan.

"You're looking pretty worn out, Pretty Boy."

"I'm okay." Pausing for breath before adding, "Did you see JJ?"

Reid wanted an unedited version of how she was doing. He was sure that both Kimura and Sandy Jareau were taking his own condition under consideration when they answered his questions about JJ.

Morgan heard it in Reid's voice and decided to be honest with him. _The man laid his life on the line for her, makes no sense to be shielding him from anything._

"She's holding her own. I guess she doesn't need as much oxygen as she did before. That's good, right?"

"But is she breathing on her own?" Knowing it would be the real marker for progress.

The urgency in Reid's voice was obvious, and Morgan was tempted to tell him what he wanted to hear. But it wouldn't be right. "Not yet, Pretty Boy. But soon. Kimura says she might just be too worn out right now, that's all."

Reid didn't seem all that satisfied with the answer. "They won't let me give her any more. They won't let me help her."

"Kid, I think that's because you need to fight your own battle here. Or did you forget that?"

"She needs it more than I do. She's a lot sicker than I am. And what about Henry? What will happen to him, if….if…."

"There's no 'if', Reid. She'll be okay. Didn't you just hear me say she was getting a little better?"

"She got better before, and look what happened."

There was something not right about this whole conversation, thought Morgan. Reid should have been pleased with JJ's progress. Should have been analyzing her response to the infusion of his antibodies, and rambling on about how they were combining with receptors or cells or something like that. He shouldn't be lying in his bed, feeling helpless. Feeling like he'd helped less. Sounding sullen, and resentful.

"Listen, Kid….Reid. You did more than anyone had a right to expect. I know for sure JJ wouldn't have expected it. In fact, I think you're gonna want to look out when she gets back on her feet. When she finds out what kind of a chance you took…well, let's just say….I taught her hand-to-hand, and I wouldn't want to be you."

He'd meant it as a tease, but Reid took him completely literally. "JJ won't beat me up. She'll yell at me, but she won't beat me up."

It was pretty classic Reid, and it reassured Morgan that his friend was still in there. "Okay, then. Cover your ears, 'cause I'm pretty sure you've got a 'talking to' in your future."

Totally sincere, Reid replied, "I hope so."

Morgan gave a little chuckle. "I hope so too." He patted Reid's hand as he pushed back his chair. "I need to get back to the BAU. You rest up and get over this thing. Do everything Kimura tells you, all right?"

Reid was tempted to ask for an update on the investigation, but he knew he wouldn't be able to process it anyway. So he nodded his agreement and tried to smile as Morgan headed for the door. The senior profiler had made it only half way across the room when both men heard some sort of shouting coming from the hallway. It was a moment before either could decipher any of the words contained in the high-pitched wail. But then both hearts caught when they recognized one of those words.

"Moommmyyyy!"


	36. Chapter 36

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 36**

"Moommmyyyy!"

Morgan and Reid shared a look of alarm, and then Morgan started heading toward the doorway again. But motion in his peripheral vision stopped him. Reid was trying to get out of his bed.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Reid was huffing, and seemed flustered by the entanglement of his monitor leads with his IV line and oxygen tubing. "That's Henry!" He was panting with the exertion of movement and the uttering of just those two words.

Morgan headed back to him. "Oh, no, you don't. You stay in that bed. What the hell are you thinking….you're gonna get hurt!"

It was pretty clear that Reid _wasn't_ thinking. It wasn't his brain that was guiding him in the moment, it was his heart. He was reflexively going to the aid of the little boy he loved so much.

"But…Henry!"

Morgan did his best to untangle things and get Reid back into the bed. He was pretty sure one of the leads had come loose, but that couldn't be helped.

"Stay here! I'll see what's going on with Henry."

Reid was still puffing heavily. "Morgan…" He had to rest after even the one word. "Bring…him…"

"Just stay in that bed and I'll see about him. Agreed?" Morgan stood in place, clearly not intending to move until he had Reid's promise. So Reid gave it to him, reasoning that he could always get up again after Morgan left the room.

"Okay."

Satisfied, Morgan headed back down the hallway, where the shouting seemed to have faded and was now replaced by the sound of a child's cry. He stopped outside JJ's room, and was brought up short by the scene inside. Sandy Jareau was seated at JJ's side, rocking a sobbing Henry back and forth in her lap. With her back to him, Morgan was unable to see the look on her face. But he could see the one on Will's. JJ's husband was standing on the opposite side of her bed, looking daggers at his mother-in-law.

Morgan wasn't sure he should intrude on the family tableau, even as troubled as it appeared. But he was afraid that, if he didn't, he would be hearing the sound of Reid dragging his IV pole down the hallway. So he gave a brief knock and entered.

"Is everything all right in here?"

Henry's head shot up at the sound of Morgan's voice. The familiar profiler's presence seemed to signal to the youngster that this was more than a family circumstance. More than an _immediate_ family circumstance, anyway. Because a member of his extended family had just appeared. Which might mean….

With his words interrupted by the sup-supping of his chest, Henry asked, "Uncle Spence? Is Uncle Spence here, too?"

Sandy had turned to Morgan's knock as well, and he could now see the tears streaming down her face. She looked stricken to have been the cause of Henry's distress.

"He's upset because Jennifer didn't wake up for him. He's frightened." _And it's all my fault._

"Aww, there's no need to be scared, Henry…." Morgan started. But his words were drowned when the little boy opened his mouth again.

"Uncle Spence!" Henry started calling for his godfather.

Will moved around the end of the bed and reached for Henry. "It's all right, Buddy. I've got you."

Henry allowed his father to lift him from his grandmother's lap, but he kept up his search for Reid, certain that he would be just behind his Uncle Derek. When Reid didn't appear, Henry called for him again. And again. And again.

Henry loved both his father and his godfather. But, as young as he was, he understood how very different they were. In Henry's mind, his father was the person who played ball with him, and took him fishing, and drove around with him on a Saturday morning, running errands. And his godfather was the one who solved puzzles, and showed him magic, and unlocked the mystery of words and books. Which was precisely the kind of expertise Henry thought was called for, in this situation.

Henry had gotten louder with each bellow, making Morgan concerned again about Reid's wanting to answer his call. He poked his head out the door to make sure his little brother wasn't collapsed in the hallway. Satisfied, he turned back to JJ's family.

"I can take him to see…." Nodding his head in the direction of Reid's room, but not wanting to say the name, in case it wasn't what Will and Sandy wanted. Sandy actually started to object, concerned that Reid wouldn't be up to it, but Will agreed to the plan. He wanted some time alone with Sandy. They needed to talk.

"Okay, then, little man." Morgan reached for Henry's hand when Will lowered the boy to the floor. "There's somebody down the hall who really wants to see you. C'mon with me."

Henry was still hiccoughing. "Is it Uncle Spence?"

Morgan smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "It is indeed. But, let me tell you something, my man." He squatted so that he was closer to Henry's height. "Your mom is just a little sick, that's all. She needs to sleep, so that's what she's doing. And your Uncle Spence is a little bit sick, too. So he's in bed. But he's awake, and he sent me to come and bring you to him."

Henry reacted to the news with visible trepidation. "Uncle Spence is sick too? Did he have to get a shot?" Henry's measure of the severity of one's illness.

"I don't know, Buddy. Why don't you ask him?"

They'd arrived at Reid's door, from which Morgan could see Nurse Carla fussing with Reid's attachments, seemingly at Reid's direction.

"That okay?" she asked.

"Great. Thanks." Still huffing a bit, and looking agitated. Apparently he _had_ heard Henry calling his name. Now he heard it once again, in a very subdued tone of voice.

"Uncle Spence?"

Reid turned his head and his heart clutched at the sight of the still-distressed little boy that he loved. He did his best to lift outstretched arms in that direction, which was all the invitation Henry needed. The little blonde dropped Morgan's hand and ran to Reid's bedside. Where he stopped abruptly, staring at all of the wires, and tubes, and machines.

Reid read him correctly. "It's nothing to be afraid of, Little Man. In fact, most of it is pretty cool. Want me to tell you about it?"

As a child, so often the target of both the well-intentioned and the ill-intentioned, Reid had never been able to stand up for himself physically. Being six or more years younger than your 'peers' tended to have that effect. Any successes he'd won had come about because he'd used his wits. He'd long since learned the truth of the adage, 'knowledge is power', and he'd even begun to teach it to Henry. Today, they would both conquer Henry's fear with knowledge.

The little guy still seemed uncertain, but Reid patted a spot beside him in the bed. "See, Carla made room for you." She'd moved as much as possible over to one side.

_So that's what you were fussing about_ , thought Morgan. He looked down at Henry. "Want a lift?"

Henry looked from Morgan to Reid and, considering, nodded. Morgan swooped him from the floor and deposited him in the clear space at Reid's side. "There you go."

He may have agreed to get into the bed, but Henry couldn't keep the fright from his eyes. Reid opened his arms again, and Henry climbed into them. Morgan watched as the two clutched at each other, a little bit jealous of the love between them, even if it was called out by such an unfortunate circumstance.

Reid stroked Henry's back and did his best to keep up a mantra of "It's all right. Your mom is all right," without getting too breathless in the process. After a few moments, Reid pushed Henry back, so he could look at him.

"You were scared, weren't you? When you saw your mom?"

"She wouldn't wake up, Uncle Spence! I called her, and called her, and she wouldn't wake up!"

"It's all right, Buddy. She's just very, very tired. She got sick, and she had to work really hard to get better. That's why she needs to sleep so much. Don't you remember when Toby gave you that virus and you slept all day?"

"I was throwing up. I _hate_ throwing up. Was Mommy throwing up?"

Reid smiled. "I hate it too. But this is a different kind of virus, so….no throwing up. But that's how tired your mom is."

"Oh." That made some sense. But then Henry thought of something. "Why aren't _you_ sleeping, then?"

_That's my boy._ "Well, I was, just a little while ago. But then I woke up. Just like your mom will wake up, when she's ready." _Please, God, let me not be lying to him._

"Oh."

The hiccoughing had resolved, and Henry seemed to have recovered himself enough to give in to his curiosity. For a while now, he'd been staring at the cannula in Reid's nostrils. Now he tugged at it.

"What's this for?"

"Ouch, not so hard. This is called an oxygen nasal cannula," using the full title to obfuscate the meaning of its use. "It gives me extra oxygen….air….to breathe."

"Why?"

"Because…..because it helps me get better faster."

"Mommy doesn't have one. Maybe you can ask them to give one to her, so she can get better and wake up."

_Good thing I'm a geniu_ s _. Albeit a slow-witted one, right now._ Reid was aware he wasn't at his best. But he did have an answer for Henry.

"Oh, she has something even better. You see, when somebody is that tired, the doctors decide that they will let them completely rest, so they don't even have to breathe for themselves. Because breathing can be pretty hard work, when you think about it." _Like now, for me._ "So the doctors are breathing for your mom, through a tube that's in her mouth."

"Oh." More thinking. "Did you and Mommy have to get a shot?"

Reid pointed to his IV line. "They gave us these, so the medicine can go in through here. So, no shots!"

Henry's eyes lit up a bit, and Reid pictured him asking for an IV at his next visit to the pediatrician. To distract him further, he introduced Henry to the various monitor leads and how they translated into tracings on the various machines that were beeping and whizzing. Henry thought it was all very cool, because it was all very electronic.

"Want to see something?" Henry nodded. Reid held his breath for as long as he could…which wasn't very long…..but it was long enough to set one of his monitors alarming.

"Pretty Boy!" Morgan was just about to point out that Reid's monitors were also connected to the nurses' station when Nurse Carla came running into the room.

"Are you all right?" She looked from Reid to the monitor, and shut off the alarm.

Reid managed to look pathetically sheepish and breathless at the same time. "Sorry. I was just giving a demonstration."

Up until now, he'd been a good patient. The look Carla gave him told Reid it would be wise for him to stay that way.

Unabashed, he had a request. One that came across sounding like a demand.

"Henry and I want to go across the hall."

"What?"

"We want to go and visit his mother. But it's important that we go together. Right, Henry?"

Feeling like there was at least one thing right in his world again, Henry nodded.

"Can you arrange it? Please?" Reid used the look that always worked when he tried to beg cookies from Garcia.

Carla looked from Reid, to Henry, to Morgan, and back again. "Oh, all right. But it will take a while to get organized."

Reid turned Henry and snuggled him against his side. "That's all right. We're not going anywhere."

* * *

They were still equipping a wheelchair to handle the IV, the oxygen and the monitors, when Morgan said a reluctant goodbye, needing to get back to the BAU. He ruffled Henry's hair and then decided to go ahead and do the same with his 'little brother'. He was almost to the door before he felt a need to turn and say one more thing.

"You're a good man, Spencer Reid."

Despite his pallor, Reid managed to blush.

A few minutes later, Kate made a quick trip up from the lobby, where she'd been waiting with Meg.

"I'm so glad you and JJ are both feeling better, Spencer." Knowing it wasn't entirely true, but obeying Morgan's strict instructions about any comments she might feel a need to make. "Henry, we're going to bring Meg home now, but she wanted me to tell you that she'd be really happy to play with you again later." When the adults figured out their plan for him.

"Okay!" Henry was still smitten.

* * *

Another twenty minutes, and they were ready. Carla helped Reid to the chair, and then Henry climbed into his lap. The nurse wheeled them the short distance down the hall and across.

As she turned the chair to go through the door, Henry called out, "Hi Daddy! Hi Meme!"

Will and Sandy had been sitting, silently, on opposite sides of JJ's bed. Reid would have sensed some residual tension in the air, if all of his attention hadn't become immediately focused on JJ. He hadn't seen her since Will's arrival to her hospital room nearly two days ago. Her appearance now brought his hand to his chest.

Sandy read the alarm on his face and hurried to assure him. "She's better, Spencer. Her color is coming back a little bit."

_If this is better_ … JJ looked so much worse from when Reid had last seen her that he didn't want to imagine how bad she'd been if 'this' was 'looking better'.

Sandy made her way over to the chair, and laid a hand on Reid's arm. "Really. She's getting much better. Thanks to you," she added, as she lifted Reid's chin and kissed his forehead. Then she turned her attention to Henry.

"I'm so sorry if you were scared before, Henry. Meme didn't mean for that to happen."

Henry showed his forgiveness by allowing his grandmother to kiss him without making a face.

"It's okay, Meme. Uncle Spence showed me." With that, he delivered a first-grade level lesson on the various attachments that his mother and his Uncle Spence shared in common. "And that one," pointing to JJ's mouth, "is so she can breathe without getting too tired. But she can't talk."

Sandy looked her gratitude at Reid before finishing her apology to Henry. "Well, I'm sorry just the same. I just thought you might want to see your mother. And I thought she might want to see you."

Henry was practical. "But she's sleeping and she won't wake up. She _can't_ see me!"

Reid had an idea. "Henry, do you remember when we were reading that book about the kids playing with the dinosaurs?"

"Yeah…"

"Did you feel like you could see them playing?"

"Yep! And I was playing with them!"

The adults were all heartened to hear the return of Henry's exclamation points.

"Well, it wasn't a movie, was it? You couldn't really see them with your eyes, could you?"

"No….I saw them inside my head."

"So, maybe if your mom heard you talking, even if she wasn't ready to open her eyes yet….maybe she could see you in her head."

Sandy latched on to that as well. "That's right, Henry! You can talk to Mommy and I'll bet she'll know you're here." _And I pray she'll want to come out to see you._

Will had been silent, but spoke up now. "Spencer. I'm glad you're feeling well enough to visit."

"Will."

"Thank you for….." He didn't finish.

Reid just shook it off, uncomfortable with being thanked by either of JJ's family members. It hadn't been an act of choice. And it hadn't been all that unselfish. To have lost JJ would have been to lose both his anchor and his safe harbor. In that respect, Reid and Henry were exactly alike. Neither could conceive of a world without JJ in it.

There wasn't a way to make room for Henry on JJ's bed, so Sandy helped Henry back onto Reid's lap and then wheeled them both next to the bed. She showed Henry where he could touch his mother's hand without displacing anything.

"Why don't you tell her about your camping trip?" suggested his godfather.

Henry didn't have to be invited twice. He'd not told any of them yet, not even his father, who'd missed half the trip. So he launched into an extended narrative that included tents, and campfires, and s'mores, and knot-tying, and both major and minor spats, and poison ivy, and hot dogs, and….

Will had walked over to the window, partially listening to Henry, partially caught up in his own thoughts. So he didn't see it. But both Sandy and Reid did. They immediately exchanged startled looks.

"Did she…."

"For a second…"

"But, is she….."

Reid nodded. He'd been watching JJ intently, looking at the rise and fall of her chest. And he was sure he'd seen a few that happened out of synch with her ventilator. He was sure she was initiating a few breaths on her own. And now, both he and Sandy had seen the flutter of her eyelids.

"Keep talking, Henry," his godfather encouraged him.

Reid had held back before, in consideration of Will. But the urge was too overwhelming now. He leaned forward and reached his non-IV'd hand over Henry's, joining him in grasping JJ's fingers.

_Come on, JJ. I know you can hear him. I know you want to come out. I promise, you can sleep again in a little while. Just show him. Show me. Please._

Sandy called Will over, wanting him to see. "We think…."

The eyelids fluttered again…..and again…..and then JJ opened her eyes. Only a slit, but they were open. There was no mistaking it.

"Mommy! You woke up, Mommy! Meme, Mommy woke up!"

This time, Sandy kept the tears in check, the mother standing strong as she came to the aid of her child. Sandy leaned over her daughter and pushed the hair away from her face. Kimura had warned her that JJ might be disoriented when she regained consciousness.

"Hi, Sweetheart. It's your mom. I'm here with Henry, and Will, and Spencer. You're in the hospital. You've been sick, but you're getting better now."

JJ was having trouble keeping her eyes open, and she seemed agitated, sliding her arms back and forth on the bed. Will moved in and tried to comfort her.

"Cher, it's all right. You're just in the hospital, that's all."

But Reid understood what was really precipitating her anxiety. "JJ, you've been on a ventilator. That means you've got a tube in your throat. You won't be able to talk just yet. Don't be frightened by it. It will come out soon enough."

At that, her eyes opened all the way, and followed his voice. The wetness in his eyes blurred her appearance, but Reid knew she was looking at him. He held her gaze and smiled.

"Welcome back."

* * *

Word got back to Kimura, who excitedly joined them in the room. She listened to JJ's chest, examined a new set of numbers, and happily announced that she was pleased. That went over well with all of the rest, save JJ, who was already sleeping once again. She'd been in and out of wakefulness over the past hour. But she was breathing on her own, more and more frequently.

"If this keeps up..." began Kimura.

Will finished for her. "You can take out the tube?"

Kimura nodded. "Maybe by tomorrow. _Maybe_."

Will grinned at the news, ignoring the 'maybe'. "Did you hear that, Henry? Your momma will be able to talk to us tomorrow!"

"Yay!"

It heartened Reid to hear the familiar exclamation, even if he thought it wiser not to promise the boy anything. But the visit, and the emotion of all of it, had taken its toll on him. He was beginning to slump over in his chair, too worn out to remain erect.

The next time JJ became more wakeful, Reid took advantage of the others' distraction as they gathered close to the bed. They were each so intent on the promised recovery...that of the wife, and daughter, and mother... that they didn't even notice when Reid exchanged a look with Kimura, nor when she turned his chair and quietly wheeled him back to his room.


	37. Chapter 37

**Before I Sleep**

**Chapter 37**

Reid blinked himself awake, his brain lagging momentarily behind his eyes. It took him a few minutes to orient.

_The sun is out. That means…..did I sleep all night? Or…..could it have been more than one?_

He had a vague memory of Linda Kimura wheeling him back to his room, and then being helped into bed by Kimura and Carla. And that was it.

_I guess I was pretty sick._ Am _pretty sick_ , he corrected, as he fell into a fit of coughing. He had to clutch at his chest at the last of it.

_Well, that's new._

It was one of the symptoms Kimura had been quizzing him about. Reid assessed himself for other signs that things might be worsening. He wasn't cold, so he knew his temperature wasn't trying to spike, and he wasn't sweating, so it wasn't on its way down from a fever. _Okay, that's good._ He took a look at the monitors. His pulse and blood pressure looked good, too.

_Maybe it's just muscular pain, from the coughing. Which probably means I've been coughing in my sleep._

Reid was still rounding on himself when nurse Margie came in.

"Dr. Reid, how nice to see you awake!"

Reid tried to summon his voice, but all that would come out was a croak. "Hi."

Margie was switching out his IV bag. "Hi. How are you feeling? Do you have any pain? Any shortness of breath?"

Reid sidestepped her questions with his own. "What day is it? How long was I out?"

She answered his second question. "You slept right through the day yesterday, I'm afraid. Dr. Kimura's been monitoring you. She thought it would be best if we let you get the rest you needed."

Reid struggled to a sitting position, involuntarily holding his chest as he did so.

"Is your chest hurting you?"

Caught in the act, Reid had to be honest. He explained the pain, and its relationship to his cough. And, apparently, to other types of movement as well.

"I'll let Dr. Kimura know. She's just across the hall."

Reid's antennae were immediately up. "With JJ….Agent Jareau? Is she all right?"

Margie stopped at the doorway. "I'm sorry, Dr. Reid. That's something Dr. Kimura will have to tell you."

* * *

The irony was undeniable. This was, arguably, the highest stakes case of his career, and yet Derek Morgan had never had so much trouble concentrating.

_He said she woke up to Henry's voice. That's good. But it's also the_ last _thing he said. Period._

Morgan had called Reid's room almost continually after he'd left the hospital two days ago. Finally, he'd gotten through, and Reid had told him about JJ rousing to Henry's voice.

"That's great, Kid! Couldn't ask for better than that, right?"

But there had been no reply. Morgan repeated himself, and then started shouting through the phone, hoping that someone else might hear him. When that didn't work, he reluctantly broke the connection…. _what if he can't call for help, what if he can't reach the nurses' call button?._..and called the main hospital number. When they put him through to the nurses' station on Reid's floor, he explained the dilemma. Five agonizingly long minutes later, a nurse came back on the line and explained.

"Carla just checked on him. He's asleep. The phone was still in his hand. But he's just sleeping, Agent Morgan."

He was relieved at that, but then _not_ relieved when he kept getting the same report, each time he called, over the next twenty-four hours _. How can he still be asleep? When will they start calling it 'coma'?_

Finally, one of the nurses picked up on the rising concern in his voice and put on Kimura herself.

"No, Agent Morgan, he's not in a coma. He really is just asleep. Between the infection and the procedures….not to mention the anemia they caused…..he just doesn't have any reserves left. So I've opted to let him rest. We're following his vital signs, but we're not waking him."

"So….he's not getting sicker?" Still sounding wary.

Kimura was confident. "He's not. He's not quite turned the corner yet, but he's not getting worse."

Relieved…partially…..Morgan took advantage of having her on the phone. "What about JJ? Agent Jareau?"

He could hear the smile in Kimura's voice as she replied. "The news there is all good. We're about to extubate her."

Morgan closed his eyes for a moment. _Thank God_. "Okay. Thanks, Doc. I mean that. Thank you for everything." He paused a moment before adding, "Tell Pretty Boy I said he needs his beauty sleep."

Kimura laughed. She'd learned of Morgan's various nicknames for Reid during their anthrax adventure. "I think you might want to tell him that yourself."

"Wish I could, Doc. Wish I could."

That had all taken place yesterday. Today, Morgan was about to go through the apartment of Zachary Jackson. The surveillance team that had followed him for the three days prior to the explosion….the same team that had seen him take the bus to one of his shifts…had lost track of him.

"He's in the wind," Morgan had declared, at their morning meeting.

"You mean, like….literally?" asked Garcia. "Like maybe he was on the bus and….boom!" She'd thrown her hands apart to mimic the explosion.

Sid Hirsh had worked 9/11 from his former position with military intelligence.

"That's unlikely, Ms. Garcia. Even given the explosion, it was a relatively compact scene. We're confident we've identified all of the separate individuals. We've got just the two missings left…the two unaccounted for students, and two sets of DNA-matched remnants. It's unlikely we'll find one of the sets to be Jackson's."

The police had made a putative 'welfare concern' visit to Jackson's apartment, but there had been no answer. Nor had there been activity on his cell phone, credit card, nor, as far as Garcia could determine, on any known e-mail accounts. Which left the door open for Morgan and Rossi to visit the apartment, along with a couple of new-found colleagues from DHS.

The lock was dispensed, and the team entered the apartment. Immediately, they could see that the search would take little time. The interior was sparsely furnished, even for a DC studio. Bed, card table, single chair, small chest of drawers. No real wardrobe, but a makeshift rack holding several shirts, two jackets, and two pairs of slacks.

"Not much of a dresser, eh," said the usually dapper Rossi.

"I only ever saw him in his youth center staff shirt and jeans. Doesn't look like he had much use for a wardrobe."

Morgan opened the drawers in the chest and sorted through their fairly meager contents while Rossi opened and closed the few kitchen cabinets in rapid succession.

"Seems like he's a fan of oatmeal. Some ramen. The fridge had soy milk, so maybe he's intolerant."

Morgan had moved on to the small bathroom. "Vitamins. Ha! Calcium and vitamin D. I'll bet he _is_ lactose intolerant." He removed a few more bottles from the small medicine cabinet. "Ibuprofen. Some allergy stuff and….whoa, here's something. A handful of oxycodone."

That got Rossi's interest. "Street or prescription?"

"Prescription. Looks like from an oral surgeon. I wonder if my friend Zach had some work done."

Rossi looked over Morgan's shoulder at the bottle. "Better have Garcia get on that. Maybe we should talk to the guy who prescribed these."

Morgan agreed, and called it in to their tech analyst. When he closed the call, he opined to Rossi, "There's something about this that isn't right. I mean, there's nothing personal in here at all, except for that prescription. No bills, no files. And, didn't Penelope tell us he was good for at least five backpacks every couple of months? What does he do with them? There's nothing here." Morgan gestured at the nearly empty apartment.

Rossi narrowed his eyes in agreement. "He's got a stash somewhere. A storage locker, maybe." He moved toward the hallway. "We need to roust the super."

* * *

If he could have forced himself back to sleep, Reid would have. Or if he could have gotten together the strength to get out of his hospital bed, he would have done that. _Anything_ to keep from having to just lie there and wait for word on JJ.

_Please, God, let her be okay. I don't have anything left to give her, and neither does Kimura. It's all Yours now._

He tried to hold out hope, but the fact that Margie had deferred to Kimura troubled him. _They always have the doctors give the bad news, don't they?_

As though on cue, Dr. Kimura appeared in Reid's room.

"I heard you were awake."

_She's smiling. That has to be a good sign. Right?_ He went along with her. _  
_

"I didn't know I was asleep for so long, because…..well, because I was asleep."

Kimura squinted at him, trying to decide if he was joking, or maybe a little bit addled. Decided, in the end, that he was just being Reid.

"How are you feeling?"

He knew Margie would have passed on the word about the chest pain, so Reid was honest. Kimura responded by pushing on his chest, eliciting a soft "Ouch."

She smiled in apology. "Sorry. The good news is that it seems to be musculoskeletal pain. That, we can deal with." She ran through a short review of systems with him and was satisfied that all of his symptoms could be accounted for by the problems they already knew he had.

"That's considered progress around these parts," she explained. "We don't ask for improvement. We just don't want anything new to go wrong."

Now Reid had to wonder if _she_ was kidding. Her smile gave him his answer.

Enough with the niceties. Doing his best to steel himself, Reid asked, "What about JJ? Margie wouldn't tell me."

Hearing the hint of fear in his voice, Kimura was immediately apologetic. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Dr. Reid. It didn't mean anything that Margie couldn't speak with you. It's just hospital policy." Seeing that he was still anxious, she hurried to tell him what he wanted to hear. "Agent Jareau is much improved."

After seemingly endless tension and bad news, and having tried to prepare himself for more of it, it took Reid an extra few seconds to absorb what she'd said. "She….is she….did you….."

"Extubate her? Yes. About…" Kimura looked at her watch…"sixteen hours ago."

Reid closed his eyes as his head fell back against the pillow. He felt like he was floating, finally rid of the weight of apprehension.

Kimura's voice was soft. "You did well, Spencer. What you did…..that you thought of it…and, my God, that you risked your own life….but you did it. You saved your friend."

The rest of him might have felt weightless, but Reid's eyelids were once again heavy. He couldn't lift them. But a tear managed to trickle out from one, sliding down his cheek and right into the curve of the smile that lifted his lips.

* * *

"Well, if he doesn't have storage in the building, it's got to be close by. I mean, there was literally _nothing_ in that apartment. Where does he even keep his checkbook?" They'd just left the building superintendent.

Rossi was surprised at his younger colleague. "Maybe he's gone all electronic."

Morgan stared at him, then off into the distance, trying to picture Zach Jackson. He ended up shaking his head. "I don't remember ever seeing him with a laptop. Not even a tablet. But he have a smart phone."

Rossi shrugged. "Give Penelope a call. She'll know if he can use a smart phone for everything. Me, I still write checks."

Following Rossi's suggestion, Morgan called Garcia.

"Derek….you're kidding me, right? You can do _anything_ from a smart phone. Including, by the way, blow up a bus."

"I know that, Baby Girl. Explosions are my thing, remember?" He changed the subject. "What did you find out about those pills?"

"Dr. Alfred Huff is an oral surgeon. I may or may not have peeked at some billing data. But, if I had, it would have said that your friend Zach had four wisdom teeth removed by Dr. Huff about eight months ago."

"An address?"

"Such a little thing! I have actually just sent you a map, for which you will thank me very much."

"Oh, really. And why is that?"

"Because, on this map, I have plotted the location of Dr. Huff's office, the pharmacy where Zach filled the prescription…. _and_ the locations of Jose Martinez' placements over the past year."

The way she said it gave it away. "There's overlap?"

Garcia was excited. "With two of the placements. One with the oral surgeon's office, and one with the pharmacy. Each within three blocks of each other."

* * *

"Spencer….Dr. Reid..."

He felt like he was in a boat that was rocking upon the waves….but it was only Carla shaking him awake.

"Hi," she said.

It took him a moment to process. But then he realized. "I slept through another whole shift?"

Carla smiled. "That you did. But it's only 4. Dr. Kimura wanted me to get you up, so your whole sleep/wake cycle won't get too far off."

He started to push himself up, reflexively examining his monitors and satisfying himself that his numbers were still good. But the change in position seemed to trigger something, and he launched into a long bout of coughing.

Carla came to support his back until he finished. "Okay? How is your chest?"

He nodded until he could catch his breath. "Doesn't hurt as much. And it doesn't feel as…full…as it did before."

She smiled again. "All good. Let me give Dr. Kimura a page. She'll want to examine you."

Reid started to ask about JJ. "How is….oh, never mind, you can't tell me."

Carla turned back from the door to answer him. "Agent Jareau?" She broke into a grin. "I've got special permission to tell you that she wants you to hurry up and get better."

Reid's mouth fell open at the news. As Carla left to call Kimura, his lips widened into a smile.

_Anything you say, ma'am._


End file.
